The Phrases
by Ardina
Summary: A good deed. An arranged marriage. The strife of individualism. Call it a prolonged oneshot. Click for full summary...
1. Chapter 1

**Before the time of Livia's birth a deal was struck between a prominent family and the crest of the eternal Dragon (Dracula you moron). In gratitude Livia's father offered the Count his first born daughter. The Vampyre never dreamed he would see the promise fore filled, but as time passed he gradually tired of Mistresses and came to view the idea of a **_**wife**_** with more pleasure than distaste…**

**Unfortunately the woman promised rejected the conventionally conservative society she was born into, left the family, and fled to make her own way in London. Previously successful as a model and owner of cuisine connoisseurs she has embraced the independence of the west with vengeance. On the orders of her husband-to-be she is to be brought back…**

**The struggles and strife of family including the animal magnetism between two darling strangers…**

Now, a few things to heed little crickets so I _don't_ get harassed by useless questions:

I'm not here to win your praises. I'm not Monsieur Dumas so keep that in mind as you attempt to pile on the unwanted _helpful hints…_

Yes, my writing is my therapy.

No, this isn't a reflection of my usual standards. It isn't deep and meaningful.

Yes, it is a pleasant time waster in the genre of cheesy entertainment (Think "Mills & Boon").

No, none of my writing ever does stick to the Van Helsing plot.

No, the dialogue isn't stylised.

Yes, I write and update as it comes to me.

No, I'm not going to comply with the usual traditions of Vampyres.

Yes, there is "smut". I won't warn you. Grow up if you take that line of thought.

No, the _Phrases_ are not split into many chapters so I get more reviews. No one reviews anyway because they are mostly too afraid. They are split because a chunk of huge writing looks dreadful and most people don't sit on FF all day…hence they would find their reading place easier…


	2. One

_1.__To the wonderful night world I inhabit without you_

From where she sat the loud music could still be heard, but because of the shut door it was more of the rumbling vibrations that echoed through the floor up the soft sofa. It was a small room set aside for the rich that had tired themselves on the dance floor below. The smoky room closed in around her. Her small feet were encased in the expensive leather that originated _only_ from Italy; Milan to be exact. The neat, piercing heels lay idle as her black stilettos rested against the sheer glass of the low coffee table. From the heels to her bare ankles and up the worked lines of her legs to her thighs where a black denim skirt carried on up to her waist; _this_ was the sight. Beyond the belt, with the large silver buckle, she was modest in an equally black polo neck. Modest, but the item took nothing away from the generous lines of her chest. Everything about the woman screamed one word and it was simply _money_. From the gold around her wrist to the fashionable London nightclub she was attending. It was all provided for by pure undulated money and it wasn't the type to be confused with _getting lucky_, oh no, this was wealth _born to._

The music burst through into the suffocating room for a brief instant as another being walked in past the sofa to the demurely lit bar behind. _She_ took no notice. The beat of the music barely matched the beat of her heart as she sat there with her head put back against the plush leather of the sofa. She'd been dancing all night, but her feet remained restless.

She danced _every _night.

She so remained restless.

With her perfectly manicured fingertips she deftly lifted the _Camel_ cigarette to her lips and pulled a deep breathe. The usually claming influence of the drug did nothing to ease her fragmented mind. As she put her hand back on the leather sofa she exhaled and created small smoke rings that originated from her full scarlet lips. They rose and dissipated in the darkened room. Her kholed eyes focused intently upon them and not even the common buzz of brandy in her blood could dampen the anger at her brother. The plane tickets he had sent sat on the glass table. Without looking at them she could feel their presence as if silently mocking her.

A _one-way_ ticket to her homeland dated for the _previous_ morning.

The brother.

The older brother.

The successful brother.

The _half-brother_.

The traditional brother who sat, even now, in his luxurious manner house out in the blasted Romanian countryside. He followed in their father's example leading a pompously virtuous life with all the common folk to assure him of his divine status amongst them. Different women to call _mother_ was not the reason for the rift.

One Romanian and the other Irish.

Both siblings had been left _motherless. _Her brother had merely coped well with the added advantages of being a senseless male.He was more than welcome to play _Lord of the Manor,_ but she did not wish for such a life London and journalism was her life now. She was, after all, the life of the party. The _cliché, _the darling, and the one to possess the wit. _Always the life of the party,_ she thought to herself amongst incoherent thoughts that bombarded her brain as the drug of influence howled through her system. _He shows up…_She recalled the morning her butler had woken her from _another_ heavy night and informed her about her brother's presence. _He judges…_She remembered his disapproving glares as he sat opposite her at _her_ breakfast table and demanded "reasons" for her behaviour. _He insults me…_ She remembered the pointed remarks over the hours she kept, her clothes, and his look of disgust. _Then he summons me like a serf…_ She remembered the tickets and curt note that arrived two days ago informing her that, as her older brother, he was entitled to take charge and make suitable _amendments_ to her life. The first was to change the scenery and remove her from the dastardly influences of London's underground. At twenty-nine with plenty of shares in the right places, she rightfully tossed the note aside leaving it to rot.

Funny how she was sitting in her favourite nightspot, unusually away from the bright lights and friends, with the blasted ticket _still_ sitting on the glass coffee table.

She moved a stray dark lock away from her shadowed eye and was about to pull a much needed breath from her cigarette when she felt the depression of the seat next to her own. It was accompanied by a masculine voice, "What you doing in 'ere love?"

"Avoiding reality", was her reply. The accent distinctly English which was another difference between her and her brother. Whilst he had taken pride in her heritage, she had fled from it embarking on a very British education. She had not returned ever since the age of sixteen. Not even when her parents died in a plane crash. This had caused an even deeper and distinct divide between the elder and younger sibling. She had been left land and subsequent wealth by her Irish mother; none of which she had formerly claimed. It all lay _there_. Yes, she was indeed "avoiding reality". Had been for the last thirteen years of her life.

"You should be snorting with Lewis then if you're after that", he relied.

She didn't bother to look at him. He was a friend of a friend and she had no will to be social with the remnants of distant memories swirling in her clouded mind. Memories of long walks and her mother with blue eyes and hair the colour of fire… "Maybe, maybe", she said. When she realised he had not taken the hint to leave her alone she continued in a charitable manner, "And why are _you_ not out there?"

"I'm enjoying the view in here at the moment", he concluded.

"Well, you might find that you would be more successful _blaggin it_ out there, darling".

"Breaks my heart to see you so preoccupied", he said ignoring her brush off.

"That's not all I'll break by the end of it, but yes, to _think_ is not a pleasant past time of mine-"

"James upped and left you then?"

She released a peel of laughter at that comment. It was as if it had been the funniest thing she had ever heard. After her laughter had died a slightly amused look encompassed her pleasing features. She sat up and took a swig of her brandy & cherries before she nestled back down again.

"Liz?"

"What?" She turned irritated and rested her dark eyes upon the man.

"James?"

"Oh him, he proposed and sent my brother into a frenzy, but please, he was more like a _Monday_ to me-"

"Yesterday was Tuesday, today _is _Wednesday, do tell who's warming your bed this evening"

"Certainly not you _mes amiz_", she quipped tightly and downed her seventh drink of the evening. She was on her feet before he could say another word, with the tickets still lying there on the table, and pivoted perfectly on her heels towards the door. Liz, or Livia as was her real name, hated this part of the evening. The trip home, _alone_, when you're at the point where the world is a see-saw and not quite the _type_ of drunk to make it pleasurable. She took delicate steps towards the door. The music hit at once and all the beautiful people called to her for she was their _party girl_. The one to _always_ call when you're in town, or more precisely, London town.

The fashionable one.

The rich one.

The gorgeous one.

She coolly waved to them all with a brilliant smile that belied her frustration whenever Romania was mentioned or crawled its way into her head. The _old land_ that was meant to have been embraced as her family had done before her. Embraced by the family on her paternal side that is. She took one last look around the main dance floor and headed for the exit. The world of bright lights and rhythm of the night had been the home she embraced with all of its ugly contemporaries. Why did she need her brother to understand? How could he not understand that this is where she felt at home making people laugh and enjoy life; far away from her confined childhood. Here she didn't need the title, the look, the responsibility. Here, right here, was where you demanded your own respect; _earned it._ She was thinking soo deeply that she completely forgot her coat from the kiosk. It slipped her mind and she cared less about it. Tomorrow she might treat herself to a round of Harrods to ease the stress caused by her older brother. _Too bad I'm not perfect Marc, but I'm still not going back!_ She was thinking this and more acidic thoughts when she exited the building away from the many clubbers on the street. Her steps were light and only tainted by the light click of her heels over hard cement. She wrapped her arms around herself as she felt the bite of autumn as her feet carried her away. The wind played with her loose hair that hung just past her shoulders. The spangled golden hoops glinted at her ears in the murky streetlight. No one was about at this time of night. Perhaps in other areas it was different, but not as she turned the road into Knightsbridge. The exclusive resident area was extremely quite, so quite it might have been silenced by an unnatural being. She walked faster wanting to just get the awful day over, but as she rounded to enter a little alley she found her day was about to get much worse. Her sight went black almost immediately as black cloth was placed over her face. She was caught up by someone of immense strength as an arm clamped round her waist lifting her off the ground as she struggled like a wildcat. Before a blow took her consciousness as well she heard her brother's voice, "Sorry _little_ sister, but plans were made before you were born and _he's_ waited long enough for you to for fill them".


	3. Two

_2. To all the things I dreaded at home_

Liz awoke to the vibration of her phone in the back pocket of her black denim skirt. The uncomfortable _buzz_ was a reminder that she had received a message. Lord only knew how long she had been travelling the outer realms of this world. She was face down up a soft surface and in her ears rang the hum of birds.

_Happy_ and _twittering _birds in the full onslaught of the late winter sunshine.

Her dark eyes opened to run across the patterns of the downy coverlet. With a further lift of her head she found herself waking to the same sight she had previously woken to for sixteen years of her young life.

That same painting of lilies and roses.

Their fine colours had never faded in the time she had gone. Why, she half expected her nurse maid to rush through the door and berate her for being late in waking. In the vase on a wooden dresser lay the subjects of the painting; fresh and avidly beautiful. The rose and the lily lay entwined in their glass casing.

Red and white.

The glass windows, heavy doors, wooden furniture and nostalgic smells; all the same and achingly familiar. This was the life of quaint grandeur she had hid from despite her late father's request. She twisted upon the bed and stood with her bare feet on the sheepskin rug. The soft pastels of her old room were grinning with vengeance as the late afternoon sun slowly dispersed through the lace curtains. From her back pocket she retrieved the phone and was not surprised to read the message, "_Virgin welcomes you to Romania! Select the link below to discover more of our changed tariffs whilst you're on holiday with us…"_ The woman let a self-depreciating smile touch her lips and said to herself, "Holiday indeed brother of mine". She dropped the phone to the bed and made her way to the bathroom dropping her clothes as she went. She was sure to find more clothes in the dressers, draws and cupboards. It was easy to believe that her apartment had been cleared out the moment she left it. Even in the bathroom she found her own towel and favourite shampoo.

Sometime later, she sat with her elbows resting on her knees. Clean faced and wrapped only in a large towel she regarded her reflection. The deep pools of her eyes absorbing all thought with a hint of amber the only clue to her ire.

The door opened and closed.

"Livia", came the voice of her only, older, brother. "I'm glad to see you have settled in nicely". His words lacked any remorse at her treatment at his hands. It was if he had granted her a dear favour. Little did she know it had nothing to do with him. As she turned slightly and looked upon him, it merely appeared that she was an errand on a list. She looked at him silently without so much as an emotion flitting across her features. She noted the pallor of his skin. Much paler than her own tanned flesh. It had been clear in London, but she presumed he travelled badly and was simply angry. His hair was also darker. It had never been like her own, a rich auburn, but still, still, it was somehow darker…

"Livia?"

She forced her gaze back to his face.

"Livia? Did you hear a word I said to you?"

" _Livia_ most probably did, but as you should know, I haven't responded to that name in thirteen long years", she tossed at him with an arrogant flick of her wrist turning back to the mirror.

"Those _lost_ thirteen years are over", he ignored the fire in her tone. "You are home now".

"How could I _ever_ forget Marc? With your arrogant strut and forced air of debonair charm? The same as always-"

"Watch your tongue Livia", he interrupted.

"And watch yours", she said catching his eye in the mirror. "I have little to no idea what possessed you when you forced me here. I am not twelve anymore".

"It is time you made peace with your duties rather than living as an _it_ girl-"

"I have no duties!" She practically screamed at him in fury. "I left! Left Marc, as in not coming back, ever!"

There was a silence in which her brother walked over to the window. The grounds were becoming dark and the moon would soon begin its ascent. "How can you say that?" The light lace of the curtain brushed his clothing and his thoughts drifted to another that would soon make his presence known. There was a worry over how his dear sister and that other would clash…

"I just did and I'm still breathing", she replied void of emotion now.

"Half-siblings though, we may be, I still have a responsibility towards you-"

"I own two restaurants and I have more shares in all the right places than I can count-"

"What of a home?"

"I have three houses in the best areas of London, not mentioning my bar on Grenada that over looks the azure seas. You don't look too well Marc, perhaps you should visit-"

"And how often are you at home?"

From looking over at her brother, she turned to hold her head in her hands as she became aware of the sinking feeling that was gradually taking hold of her body. She knew where this was leading as he continued on and on…

"Answer me Livia", he brother said again.

"I'm twenty-nine, not twelve Marc", she replied losing the will to live.

She heard her brother approach her and place his hands on either one of her bare shoulders in a brotherly gesture of support. "Yes you are, and it is time you made our father happy".

His hands, rather than the words were the first thing she noticed. They were so cold it was almost painful to have them upon her flesh. When the words registered she said with little hesitation, "Father is dead Marc-"

"But he watches-". He added to himself, _There is more you don't know._

"You didn't exactly have the hardest time imaginable when you took over all that I inherited", she bit annoyed he had brought up father.

"Ah, so you remember what you left behind here?"

"You took it over and have glazed the profits, what more do you want?"

"Question for a question my dear sister, how very unbecoming", he mysteriously replied.

"Why am I here Marc?"

"Promises", her brother replied whilst walking to the door. "Get ready, I have some guests in this house of _yours_", he flashed her a grin of very white teeth.

"Marc", she demanded in a voice that commanded attention.

He stopped and turned with a hand on the door, "Father died without his daughter even grieving for him-"

"You know nothing", she bit with derision hating the emotional blackmail.

"Never the less, you will carry out father's wishes"

"What wishes?" Her suspicion was evident.

"To marry of course", Marc replied turning as he saw the knowledge sink in.

"I'm old enough not to be a piece of cattle to be bartered off!"

The door was closing on her brother when she heard him say, "I think you'll enjoy bartering _yourself_ Livia".

Fuming as the door clicked shut, she began to pull her wardrobe to pieces on a string of Londoner's curses.


	4. Three

_3. The unwilling declaration of my home_

She didn't have to check a mirror for anxious hours on anticipated hours to check her reflection.

To make sure she was suitable for others to view.

Unlike other women, _she_ had done her tour from New York to Bejing from every _cathouse _to _catwalk_ over three years working for _Belladonna_. There was not a woman more alive than she and certainly not another more than confident of her pulling aura. Armed with all the tricks of the industry she, undoubtedly, made the most of what god gave her.

As soon as her bedroom door swung closed behind her in the corridor there was the sound of light conversation drifting up from the foyer door stairs. She paused and waited for the sound to disappear further into another room as they moved away. The moment it did she walked out towards the marble balustrade and peered over. She could see nothing obviously, but carried the task out anyway as if to prolong her descent down the flight of stairs. One by one she took practiced steps down the wide staircase. As her black stilettos touched the ground floor she felt a draft drift across her bare legs and knew it came from the open door where her brother's present company was assembled. With an air, only achieved by the strut of a _catwalker_, she sent her fingers through her tresses and the effect, together with the simple outfit, made her appear as if her lover had just released her from his arms. The look would both infuriate and entice the man that had set it all in motion.

The doors opened further as the woman strode in.

Her bother immediately turned from the quaint woman beside him made her feel welcome, "So you have decided to finally grace us with your presence-"

"I hardly thought you deserving of the sight of me, but as you know, I have such an awfully charitable soul", she interrupted his flow of words and casually lifted a glass from the servant that appeared at her side. The only sign of her unease was the death grip on the stem of the glass. The fire in the grate burned merrily and the heat given off contrasted nicely with the open patio doors that lead out to the perfectly manicured gardens. She hardly took stock of the room or the man standing on the threshold of the patio, she had seen it before and was far more interested in the little piece smiling prettily from behind her brother. He had his say and damnation of her way of life; let her damn his own conduct for a change. Anything to move the attention away from her own emotional short comigns. With a casual glance she dismissed the other woman in her virginal white and targeted her wit on her brother. "Mmm", she started. "I see your favourite time of year is when the fresh buds are out and _ripe_ to be picked".

From the look sent by Marc, she was positive that he had found the double meaning behind her words and certainly the man by the glass doors, apparently engaged in conversation with another, had also understood the meaning. Whether the woman did or did not was something she could not divine. She merely stood there innocently unaware of the blight delivered on her. Smiling. She was smiling like an ornament someone might buy for amusement sake.

"A favourite time of year, but only a fool couldn't register the chill in the air", she said when her brother said nothing. Without waiting for a reply she walked over to the servant and deposited the glass. The cabinet in her father's study would provide far better sustanence for the night to come and so, with that thought in mind, she gave her instructions to the servant and pretended to take a valid interest in the books that lined one of the walls…

Two glasses later and not a single soul out of the fifteen gathered dared to talk to her. Not one, but the smiling female that is. It was as if the rest were too afraid or too guarded in their actions around her. This she noticed, but the alcohol began to have its desired effect and ease the tension from the scene around her. She would have left. Walked out. Retired to the solace of her room, but her brother stood chatting with others, all like him, right by the door. _As if he could read my mind_, she thought wryly to herself. Her anger at his crude and judgemental ways had long since faded. Marc was soo like their father with his need to make it all _right_. Not a bad practice, but practically it was poor ideology as a man's way was often the only way they could ever see. He was her brother and although grossly mistaken in his meddling; he was still trying. Her thoughts were dragged to the present as her brother's smiling woman turned down a very dangerous lane of conversation. Before Livia had been content to let her talk, but some matters could never be ignored.

"After you left it was very difficult for your brother especially when dealing with your dear father", she said and continued, "Marc felt as though all the blame could be placed on his shoulders".

Livia was silent as the woman continued to embark on dark grounds.

"That's when we found each other you know, I was there to help him slightly-"

"And you repaired the whole in my father's heart too I suppose?"

"I could never step into your shoes", replied her counterpart sweetly in tones that made Livia sound too worthless for anyone to contemplate imitating. "They are far too painful for me", she continued gesturing towards the jimmy choo's that elegantly encased the soles of Livia. It was light, but both were aware of the undercurrent meaning.

Livia replied in equal measures, "Well, some are not strong enough to be suited to lives of distinction, no?"

"Quite"

"Where are _your_ family grounds?" The woman turned a shade pink as Livia had intended. _No money_, she thought. _How quaint brother for you to criticize me and corner me into marriage_. The acid was plentiful.

"I have a town house in Bucharest", she offered.

"Really?" Livia drained the glass she held and gave it to a passing servant. "How, how, _suitable_. Tell me, it must be such a long drive back for you-"

"Oh I don't live there…"

Livia took note of the shift in the woman's stance and became aware that what had just been said had not been a piece of information that she was entitled too. "You don't?" Livia encouraged the elaboration despite the foreboding sense of doom that suddenly hung thick in the air.

"I took over your mother's suit of rooms in the south end", the woman said without much feeling.

The blood drained from Livia's face.

At seeing her reaction, her brother's woman took it as an opportunity to concrete her supposed overriding authority. "I have been the mistress of this house for many years now", she said. "I am the mistress of _Hunter's Fall_ Livia and you-"

"I _shall_ nothing. You are nothing, but in live-in who thought it easier to beguile a stupid man than work for herself", said Livia dangerously. Her eyes darkened and her colour became raised the angrier she became.

"Don't use that tone with me Livia-"

"Yes!" Livia replied with enough force that all conversations ceased. "I am Livia. Livia Maria Valerious Costova and you would do well to remember that, now my dear, if you don't curb you tongue and remove yourself from my mother's apartments then I'll have someone do it for you because this is _my_ house, not my brother's", she spat with born authority and brushed past the woman. The action caused a glass to fall to the floor in the process spilling its amber contents across the cream surface. With a savage look at her brother she said, "Next time you should give them a bank statement for it would be kinder than deceiving them so Marc". Without a backward glance Livia headed toward the closest exit and walked straight out into the frigid night air. She was so angry she paid it little attention and headed straight for the gardens. Livia saw no one with her vision clouded by impulsive anger.

The silence left behind was tangible.

A man walked to the centre of the room from his previously obscure position and placed a glass down on the table. He turned in the silence towards the patio door, but stopped before the patio engulfed him in complete darkness, "Celia must be moved Marc".

"Yes master", was the only reply to be heard as he walked away to follow the angry woman called Livia.


	5. Four

_4. To the sultry joy of water caressing the skin_

_My mother's apartments! If he wasn't my brother I'd choke him__ to death, _she thought savagely and walked with her angry thoughts practically tumbling over themselves. The darkness of the grounds began to engulf her lithe figure. Only the quaint garden lamps burnt casting a soft light across the ground before her. How could her brother have even envisioned such a thing? To place _his_ woman in _her_ mother's apartments. The disgust and the anger she felt was tangible. Of course her mother had never been his _blood mother_, just in name, but that was far _from the point since she had always treated him as the son she never had_! It was an unreasonable line of thought, but deep down there were the voices warning her not to turn down such a spontaneous route; rather address what she was angrier with such as her brother duplicity at dragging her here. At the thought, Livia's gaze rose to encompass the dark sky above her. It was a beautiful velvet.

But Livia had been no where near the rooms her mother had kept. No where near them even though she had spent an entirely restless day doing next to nothing. It wasn't because she was afraid of them, or was it? _I am not_, she thought adamantly. However, the memory of the comforting mother who had supported her and helped her move out and on was a painful one to hold. When the news of her death, together with her demanding father, had reached Livia she had been beside herself with harrowing grief, but she still refused to return home. Without even her mother, what chance would she have had at launching her own business or even modelling for the sheer vanity of it? She knew that she was a disaster in her father's eyes and always had been for her brash mannerisms. Leaving had been her decision to end his disappointment. In truth she refused to veture to the parts of the huge house that held many memories. She didn't want to have to face the emotive memories she knew would assail her as soon as she stepped foot in those rooms. Memories of her dear mother…

"Not much chance of any memories assailing me now, are they?" Now, that she understood her brother had let that, _that_ woman practically desecrate her mother's memory. Livia paused, sighed into the night air and it frosted before her. Like the soft mist in an early morning sun they vanished instantly. The inherited red colouring that streaked her hair must have indeed affected her thinking. _Hot-tempered_ as how she had once been described by her first photographer. _Fire and brimstone_, she reminisced silently to herself and began walking again.

The cold night of the air began douse the ire within her and her eyes wandered over the neat hedges with the light slowly fading the further she ventured from the house. She never turned to see the light spilling from the patio doors or the dark figure emerging. "Someone had to enter those rooms at some point I guess, but it is everything and it is nothing at all", she said bitterly to herself as she negotiated the gravel pathway with surprising ease considering the complexity of the heels she wore. _If you can walk in Milan, you can walk anywhere_, she thought proudly to herself.

The gardens were a beautifully neat affair and had taken inspiration from the classical style of the House of George. The neatly gravelled paths were enough for two to walk a breast and no more. These gravelled paths were equally lined by short clipped box hedges that grew in healthy abundance. It did not have to be day for her to know the many types of green that littered the garden. All so very fresh and crisp in the morning hours where one was usually tucked up in bed. It was a design that was conventional in its archetypal lines, but intimate at heart. One could imagine a stolen kiss shared by lovers out there in the garden.

She walked and walked, right to the end of the lane and onto the entrance to the summer house. Livia approached the gate and with her arms snaked around the metal she rested her head against the cold bars. The frigidity of the iron's touch did nothing to slow the memories for the child within her.

It was a quaint building rather out of place amongst the grandeur of the Manor. There was no way to describe it other than to call it a _folly_. Her birth mother had originated from the shores of Limerick, Ireland. Through the deep seated love of his second wife, her father had built an exact replica of her home down in the north of the gardens. Down in the secluded area of the grounds where no one ever really ventured, so peace, unlike many things, was secured here. A place similar to the one we create in our minds for distant memories that hold much pain. Nothing had been too much for her dear mother and even her father had been able enough to see that.

It was a ground level building, surrounded by a taller hedge of prickly holly, was neither big nor small. It had always been just enough to remain her childhood sanctuary. The terracotta tiled and triangular shaped roof was still as humble as she could remember it. The red brick of the wall still gave out the impression of a warm glow despite the bite of the night. The cottage windows were still full of quiet charm; frosted glass and simple panes. The garden at the front of the house was nothing like the ordered rows beyond the holly hedges. The small lawn was lush underfoot and the beds remained full of perinials.

The heated pool in the house's small garden illuminated the enclosed ground and caught the edges of the windows making them gleam in welcome. The woman sighed as she remembered it had been her mother's favourite site. Rather than spend time in the lavishly appointed residence, her mother was to be found here most evenings. Her favourite activity, much to her husband's disapproval, had been taking a swim in the late evening. Her father had worried over the cold night air, but her mother had always insisted that her Irish blood was far better suited to the tasks of the cold rather than his own stock of Romanian blood…

She pushed at the gate and it swung open just as easily as it had always done. There was a slight creak and a clang as it closed behind her. Her shoes echoed in the lonely spot on the stone slabs that made up the tidy path. Without hesitation, despite the isolation of the folly, she veered off the path towards the illuminated pool. The doors would be locked, she knew without trying, because the guardian of her home had been her brother. _Nothing_, for him, was left to spontaneity or chance. However, the pool was heated and inviting with its pleasant illumination despite the cold air. She stepped neatly out of her shoes and the soles of her feet touched the cold stone sending a mild shudder from toe to head. It would be interesting getting from the pool to her room in the cold without a towel to shield her from the chill, but was she not, after all, her late mother's own flesh and blood? She had no costume or other clothes, but venturing back to the house now would risk her adamantly annoying brother and his clumsy attempts at family affection. No, she had no want of company either. Like her mother before her; solace was a golden charm. With the thoughts filling her mind she never noticed the dark figure just on the fringe of her sight. Her mind was enjoying the solitude as she walked to the edge of the water and skimmed her toes across the surface of the warm water.

_Why must all mortals be soo difficult? Their aims are short-term rather than long-term and so often they fail to see the repercussions o__f their own selfish actions._ The thoughts had stewed in the immortal's agile mind as he had worked his way through the maze of box hedges and rows of shrubbery. An evening cape was draped over his arm. He had been less than impressed by Marc's handling of his own kin. _Women related or not, should always be handled with a calm sophistication. They can never make decisions themselves_, he thought with a touch of corrosive acid as he materialized on the other side of the iron gate.

Of course, it should be born in mind that this particular immortal, never blamed himself for anything, for what did it matter that he had been the one to summon Livia against her wishes?That he had not anticipated such a flare of anger from a mere woman? That whilst he had lived for hundreds of years and tired of casual carnal attractions, Livia had barely lived a lifetime.

His dark figure left strange shadows on the wall of holly behind him and as he turned his attention to the woman, he stopped. He had seen her as she entered the drawing room. The expression of daunting anger marking her fine features, but marked they were at the time and nothing could be seen of woman. With his hands in his pockets he silently viewed her. _Out in the cold_, he thought as he watched her touch the warm water and his keen eyesight saw the rise of goose bumps along her bare arms. He sensed her mind's pleasure at the contrasting effects of the warmth and the cold.

All her life she had been promised to him and yet, she barely knew the half of it. Little did she know that the brother and the family were not all they had seemed? Little did she know that she would be last to be initiated into the world of myth. For the Vampyre that watched Livia in the shadows had grown tired of the beauties he had turned and, in turn, the youthful men who only sort his own power. None had been content with what they had been given. All claimed to be warriors of freedom that had championed the weak against the despotism of a faction; Dracula himself. Now that they had lost and all had been seemingly restored by blackened blood, the lord of the Vampyres had turned attention to his own needs. After years, and women of all descriptions, unbelievably profound as it was, he had chosen to make _this_ woman his wife. A woman to order his household as one did in his lifetime, but even more that, he required a _Lady_ of the Vampyres. Another for gentle company that only the fairer sex could provide.

He was about to introduce himself with characteristic charm and a wicked smile, but before he could do so she stopped her idle play with the water and other actions brought him to an abrupt halt. The aristocrat wanted to call out to her and make her aware of his presence, but the rake and rogue held his tongue silent. The dress made of a gorgeous layering of silks and laces that ran from shoulder to knee was carelessly dropped to the stone floor. His eyebrow rose in appreciation of what lay beneath the item. The black items of clothing beneath accented and caressed the curves that proclaimed her a woman. What fine lace artistically obscured from the eye would only enliven the imagination of even the most stoic of men. From the fall of her russet hair, down the delicious curve of her spine, over the tempting edges of her lace underwear and to the gentle footfall of the soles of her feet, it became apparent to him that a _Lady_ need not always be described as _gentle_. There were certain times where a _vixen_ would be more apt for the role. On these thoughts he, unintentionally, released a sigh of satisfaction which was loud enough to cause the woman to turn in his direction. Anger would later consume him for his error, but as agile as always, he used one of many dark gifts to turn her mind from his presence. The anger became minimal as he realized the action caused her face to come into view. In the dull light cast by the pool, her profile was illuminated setting the image of her lush figure in his carnivorous mind. He watched as she turned and proceeded to cut smoothly into the surface of the water. _Hardly a ripple and perfectly practiced,_ he noted as beneath the water she reached the end of the small pool and doubled back without breathing. _I wonder if she displays the same endurance with other night activities too_, he mused as he made his way to the edge of the pool. His dark Hessian boots came to stand close to where she had left her own shoes. _Black and black_, he saw. He seemed to wait an age as he waited for her to break the surface of the water before him. When the moment did arrive, he was far from disappointed, her hair streamed down her back in a thick pelt and her intake of breath caused her breasts to heave against the fine material now utterly saturared with water. The sight was only enhanced by a look of ire that entered the woman's dark gaze when it settled on the man above her who stared right back. The gaze unsettled her slightly and she sank back in the water till it was level with her chin.

"Cold?"

"No", she said tightly despite the goose bumbs caused by the breeze.

"Lonely?" The voice was deep and slightly roughened. Years later, she would be more versed in his ways and learn the tone was lustful. For now, it did not amuse her to have her peace invaded and his arrogant tones to match. The fact she was barely dressed did not register as important in the instant. "Lonely?" She repeated his words. "For you or my previous solace?"

"Obviously my company-"

"Then you would be wrong", she interrupted and turned to do another lap, but before she did she said, "Go back to my brother and his _hostess_, perhaps you may better entertain them both than waste your efforts on myself". Without waiting for a reply she followed the black and white tiles laid at the bottom of the pool to the other, shallower, end. After such a cutting tone she more than expected him to leave her be; it had worked before on a whole host of men before. Deciding that she could not make another lap she surfaced, only covering half her previous distance, and breathed the cold air deeply. The sound of his voice immediately penetrated her conscience, "I feel slightly insulted you think _I _should be the one entertaining your brother". Out the corner of her eye she saw him casually walking to the other end of the pool. His hands where in his pockets and served to outline the lean physique he kept hidden beneath black cloth. As he walked the light from the pool cast his features into relief. "If anything, you will come to know, he does all that is possible to entertain myself", he said as he turned towards her and stopped.

"Why is that?" She felt a basic attraction to this attractive male and so her tone was lighter than before. Her head titled to one side and her arms made idle circles beneath the surface of the water. The action was distracting as it caused disturbances of the water as it lapped against the exposed curve of her breast. "I asked you a question", she said.

"And I was distracted", he replied without a qualm.

"Touché".

"Indeed", he left the word to hover in the air as they equally assessed each other in turn.

"What do I call the man who intrudes on my peace?"

"You don't enjoy my presence?"

"I don't like being staked to an imaginary bed with your eyes", she replied with a teasing husk catching her words and brought herself to the edge of the pool so her arms could rest.

He lowered himself to his haunches, so their faces were moments apart, and said with a tempting smile, "Would you prefer to be chained to my bed?"

His eyes watched her intently as she equalled his inflaming comment, "No offer of silk ropes or blind folds? You're not even tempted to simply free me and allow a minx her way?"

"Instead, shall we simply start slow with light swim, later a bottle of champagne and my finest silk sheets?"

He saw the playful light dance in her eyes as she brought her fist to her teeth and applied light pressure. It was a teasing look accompanied by the words, "Oh, how tempting, but I'm afraid you are completely despicable and what would my brother think".

_That it was fate_, he thought silently as she pulled away from their intimate position. He said nothing as he watched her reach the ladder and pull herself up from the water. He still said nothing when stood beside him and he turned.

"Your name before I depart", she requested without a trace of the cold that _must_ have seized her.

"A lady never demands-"

"That is because she is usually surrounded by those able to determine her wishes my dear", she interrupted him. He said nothing in reply, but chose to openly view her body. The act was _designed_ to unsettle her.

Livia saw his intentions and moved even closer. The wet material that covered her breasts like a second skin lightly brushed his arm as she bent closer to whisper, "I modelled for three years across the world and was even a secular model for Dior. Do you think that just because you have such, such beautiful eyes, they can devour me just like_ that_?" She had to raise herself on the balls of her feet so she could whisper closer to his ear, "Oh my dear, try, try, _try_ again". With that she gently eased the evening cape from where it rested on his arm and the material eagerly followed her hold with the sound of slithering satin. With the pretence of a demure virgin she draped the cape over her cold self with her eyes watching as his own gaze followed the lines of her body. Without saying another word she walked softly to the other end of the pool. Her fingers laced through the straps of her shoes and she walked out the gate. It closed with a juddering _clang_ behind her retreating figure. He was left to stare after his unwitting bride and said simply into the night air, "I shall".


	6. Five

_5. To All Things Mundane & Old_

The morning was a beautiful one. The watery light had begun to filter down through the green foliage to land gently against the patterned floor. A small breeze caused the dark and heavy branches to sway slightly and subsequently create alluring shadows in the semi-twilight. With the grounds so quiet it was hard not to appreciate the beauty of the land. It seemed that mother nature was full of such simplicity, but at the same time she was a whirling vortex of complexities; the woman who took off at a steady run did not envy her task.

The steady silence was punctured by the sound of the frost that crumpled beneath the woman's feet.

_Crunch. Crunch._

She had left all her modern conveniences behind in her room and ran with only her thoughts for company. She had been so preoccupied with her restless night that she had failed to bring a jumper with her whilst making her hasty, but much needed retreat. As she turned from the court yard, towards the gravelled path that led through the secluded wood, she felt the cold lap against her, but gratefully did not even see another human being. It was somewhere between five and six in the morning and not one soul was to be heard as she covered the large grounds. It was the peace that she so clearly craved.

Tired of not being able to sleep and sick of lacking her usual work she had come to find solace in the steady fixation of a run. It was not the first time she had resorted to exercise in order to clear her mind and exorcise her own unruly demons. She concentrated deftly at placing one foot in front of the other. The pounding of her heart matched her footfall, but over the years she had forgotten how hard it was to simply _forget. _Her practiced pacing was no match for the speed her thoughts travelled.

The gravelled path became narrower as it veered further from the house and the large trees began to close in around her. The coarse gray gravel gave way to the soft dirt of a forest floor. No matter how hard she concentrated all she could smell was the soft scent of wet earth and pine. All her eyes could see were the browns and greens that had filled her childhood. No matter how hard she tried to claim ignorance to her location; she knew exactly where she was. Livia had spent her childhood in these forbidden woods and forges. She knew that to stray right would lead her straight to a cold stream that was filled with small Pike making their way to the lake north of the grounds. She knew because once she had spent so long staring into the shallow depths, that the morning had turned into the afternoon and the entire household had been in uproar upon her late return. Livia remembered her crying maid and the scolding she had received from her father as if it was yesterday.

She let out an exaggerated breath, shook her head as if to physically lose the thought, and then pushed harder in a different direction. She breathed slightly harder now from exertion and frustration as she recalled her father.

_Dmitri Stephanos Valerious_.

_The man's name was almost as unforgivable as he was himself, _she thought to herself and side-stepped a fallen log. That afternoon, so long ago it seemed, he had let her know in clear terms what it was to be a _Valerious_. Or more precisely, what it meant to be a woman of the _Valerious _line. It had nothing at all to do with the childish aspirations of a twelve year old girl. A girl that wanted to do more than sew and decide on the correct shade of red for the velour drapes in the reception rooms. She slowed as she recalled his reaction; his expression and his tone. Her mother had been worried and showed the relief of a loving parent. Her father had merely shown relief at an abated crisis and as for Marc, well, Marc did the usually honourable thing and stood beside his father looking fatally disapproving even at the age of sixteen. It was at that point in her life that the great rift between her and her family had started.

_All over nothing, nothing at all, _she thought to herself.

The more her father had attempted to steer her in an _appropriate_ direction, the more Livia had come to resent him and move in the exact opposite direction. The fights over her choice of schooling and her friends had been the only breaks in the long silences that had filled the final years she had spent in Romania. It had all been heartbreak over petty trifles that mattered little to nothing in reality; this was something that age and experience had shown her. _Isn't it always easier with hindsight_, she thought fatally.

She had finally enlisted her mother's aid to move to London.

Livia's mother had never denied her and in some ways the willingness she showed in helping Livia confused the young adolescent. The woman slowed amongst the trees to a walk. She had never quite understood the help she received from her mother in fleeing to London, perhaps her mother had been tired of the constant war that raged between her husband and daughter, but whatever the reason, Livia would never know as her mother took the answers with her to the grave and the adolescent had always had too much pride to ask. It was on the dying notes of this thought that Livia slowed completely and dragged her fingers through her hair savagely releasing it from the rubber band. With her head in her hands she lowered herself to the carpeted floor of leaves and let the cool breeze wash over her heated skin. She shivered slightly as the chilling wind wound its way through her auburn hair. Her hands dropped from her face and she let out a self-mocking laugh as her thoughts wandered along forbidden paths. "Why did it have to be like this?" Was all she said and raised her eyes to the roof of foliage above her, but just as the sight of the sky alluded her now, so did the answers to her question.

After five years in London she had had plans to return home. She had had plans, but later found that the best laid plans are often the first to be destroyed by the fates. The years away from home had taught her things; patience among others. Unfortunately she was a Valerious, despite taking her mother's maiden name in circles, and with it she inherited her fair share of a stubborn nature. Livia had wanted to talk the language of her father and that was money. It was in making money for herself that it all went wrong. It had taken too long. In waiting for her first cherished million the accident had happened. Both her mother and father came to an immediate end. The woman still stared up into the leafy foliage as she remembered her brother making contact with her through a lawyer of all things.

"So many lost opportunities", she finally said to the empty silence around her. Her eyes closed and she sighed full of melancholy. It was because she knew why she was here again. Marc had tried the same thing all those years ago. It all came back to following the path of honour or in more precise terms for her: _marriage_. She'd known it when her brother had arrived that morning so unexpectedly. "Just like father he's going to salvage my soul and marry me off", she bitterly declared and uncaringly threw herself back onto the damp bed of leaves.

_But that is only one half of your troubles, _her mind declared. She turned her head to one side and inhaled the rich scent of the earth as leaf floated down before her. She caught it between her fingertips and held it up to the light watching lazily as the light shone through. The green surface was zigzagged with neat lines of phloem and the patterns altered the light beautifully, but it did nothing to turn her thoughts away from the galvanising stranger she had met. There were many questions she had yet to have answered and they all revolved around him. It was a disturbing curiosity that she found herself indulging in. "Tonight", she said. "Tonight we shall see", she repeated and hoisted herself up beginning the long trek back.


	7. Six

_6. To the Pleasant Call Of Curiosities Unsated  
_

"There are no two ways about it Michael", she said from behind the large mahogany desk. "I will not sell ten years of blood and sweat to just see it taken apart or worse-"

"Worse Liz?"

"Yes worse", she replied unhelpfully into the mobile.

"Going to expand or is it another guessing game?"

"Don't push your luck, your my lawyer, not my friend", she clipped.

He gave an indulgent sigh and said, "It is a lot of money they are offering-"

"I have money and don't you dare make the restaurants sound unworthy"

"I never said that Liz, but how can you refuse so, so _flatly_?"

"I won't see what I worked for cheapened"

"Liz, on a transaction level they won't even trade under the original name", he said and paused before adding, "The _Costova_ restaurants are worth a considerable sum and they are offering even more than is sanct. They've even drawn a separate contract up making special arrangements like not trading under the original name and keeping the employees. I think it goes a long way to show how much they want it for the business it is"

"You forget that I don't want to part with it", she said quietly down the connection. She could hear him sigh at the other end and wondered what time it was in New York for him. She had found many missed calls from her poor abused lawyer on her mobile and deemed to phone him that same afternoon. In some ways she was grateful for the distraction of business. "I like my work", she repeated.

"When was the last time you set foot in a Costova in either Paris, Hong Kong, New York or London-"

"Some things are best run behind closed doors-"

"Alright, alright, calm it Liz", said Michael. "All I'm saying is that they're just an off-shoot of your plans these days. During the modelling they took a back seat for obvious reasons, now four years into your _retirement_ I haven't seen you show any love for it"

"I resent the implication that I'm _flaky_ Michael-"

"Take that your too damn restless! It's all been a success, but your still driving ahead. Don't you go thinking that I haven't heard about your research into a certain amount of land on Long Island. Property development? Do you know how many pitfalls there are?"

"Modelling and holding a chain of restaurants had their charms too-"

"_Had?_"

"You're well aware by now that I don't model anymore-"

"I meant the restaurants", he said hopefully.

There was a silence before she said, "The charity dinner will stay in place?"

"Yes"

"I don't want to see it going to the dogs Michael", she said.

"It would be nice if you trusted your lawyer once in a while. I'm a fairly deft hand at water-tight contracts considering I passed the Bar-"

"You know what I mean Michael", she interrupted in soft tones and looked up thinking that she saw a dark shape flicker by.

"You worked hard as a kid Liz, now learn to reap the benefits, but yes I know very much what you mean", he replied to a distracted Livia.

"Then you have the go ahead to have it done", she said getting up from the plush leather chair and walking around from behind the desk.

"Wonderful, I'll set up a meeting for the twelfth, that's two days from now and I'll have your apartment opened too-"

"I won't be there", she interrupted his flow of words as she reached the open door of the study and stepped out into the corridor. That disturbing curiosity of hers was running rampant again as she thought she had seen him...

"Liz? Where are you?"

"I'm here", she responded distractedly looking both ways down the empty corridor.

"Where is _that_?"

"I'm fine Michael. You got what you wanted, now see to it, and you are perfectly capable as acting as my notary. I expect it in order by next week Monday", she finished and then cut the connection. She placed the slim mobile on the hall table and walked further along the corridor. Her bare feet padded silently over the polished parquet flooring while her coaled eyes slid silently over every surface. The beads at her wrist rustled slightly as she walked just as her hair was slightly moved by the faint breeze as it hung over her shoulders. She had a strange feeling, it was if she was being called, but at the same time she knew he was near. It didn't make any sense at all.

Livia rounded the corner and stopped before gingerly trying the door to the parlour. None to her surprise the door began to open and seated to one end of a chaise lounge was the object of her disturbing curiosity. He sat in a room that matched his own formality as he turned from the fire to address her, "Livia". She made no immediate response and so he continued in time altered tones, "What a pleasant surprise".

"Hardly a surprise since it's my home", she replied a little too shortly to her own horror. She mentally scolded herself, but couldn't deny that her present clothing made her feel uncomfortable around him. _Soo damn formal and here I am in shorts of the bloody foul luck. _Livia attempted to right the wrong and restore her calm as she asked politely, "Are you looking for my brother? Sir?" She finished with a beautiful awkwardness that she doubted she had ever equalled finishing poorly as she remembered that she didn't even know his name.

He simply regarded her through his calm and a steady gaze.

"Well", she bit throwing all her good resolutions out the window.

"_Well_, I'm absolutely fascinated by your obvious indecision towards me. Resolutions to be polite and then at the drop of a hat your practically throwing me out-"

"I never did complete finishing school", she interrupted oddly hurt that he should find her inadequate.

He rose and appeared taller in the small parlour than he had the previous evening out by the cottage. He approached in dark garb where she stood at the door and said, "You will be surprised to hear it, but I do not particularly care my dear". She expected him to brush past her and out the room, but he took hold of her hand from where it rested on the door handle and pulled her into the room. His grasp was firm and strangely cooler than her own as he said, "You are Livia and I am Vladislaus". He pulled her further towards him as he closed the door behind her. On the gentle click of the wooden door he wryly said, "Now that we are such intimate friends I think I can safely observe aloud why you love a certain type of shoe". His blue gaze watched a light blush tint her cheeks as she absorbed his comment. Her head turned away from him and he watched the light play upon her hair as she replied, "I'm not that short, you are just too tall-"

"I do not recall such an admonishing statement passing my lips", he paused and trailed his fingertips up her throat to her chin where he tilted her face towards his own. "You have such soft skin I would dearly love to touch more", he breathed and she almost drowned in his scent. Another hand trailed the length of her spine through the thin material of her shirt and rounded its way down her bare arm to rest upon the beads at her wrist. Livia absorbed it all and could barely think at his slightest touch. She felt his momentum shift as he brought her wrist closer for inspection and spoke with an odd tone, "A Turkish Love Knot". The rough carving of the piece held his avid interest for a short time. He then released his hold on her wrist in exchange for a slightly bruising grip on her upper arms. She was pulled closer till she could feel her soft form yielding to his harder one, but he was oblivious to it as he demanded, "A present from _Michael_?"

She simply stared at the sudden anger rising before her.

"Livia", he said her name in a warning tone. "Answer me", he finished with a slight shake of the petite woman in his grasp. Some of her hair had fallen over her face and she watched him in a mostly bemused light. Within her mind she must have been crazy or so she thought. Here he was man-handling her over imagined jealousies and all she could feel was a fatal attraction to a complete stranger! She should have been repulsed, but all she could feel was the steady tide of desire for this dark man...

When her feet left the floor she was forced to clutch despairingly at the lapels of his jacket as she was neatly deposited on the chaise lounge he had so recently vacated. Her reverie had been abruptly broken and she watched, a trifle breathless, as he came closer to lean over her. "Livia", he whispered as he came closer and she felt the pad of his thumb rub gently against the sensitive flesh of her full lips. "Livia, I have waited long enough for you and _this_", his other hand caught the offending trinket and snapped it clean off her wrist, "_That_ is nothing compared to what I can give you-"

"My bracelet", she said in shock as the beads spilled across the richly carpeted interior. Her gaze went back to his face and her hands went to push at his chest as he came closer, but to no avail. She felt his weight transfer to where she lay and he said, "Why do you wish to fight my dear". His hand began to tangle in her hair whilst the other moved alone the planes of her body to rest at the curve of her hip. On a matter of principle she turned her head slightly from him as he came closer and his lips found the hollow of her throat. "That lovely scent of summer rain", he complimented her in a husky tone. Her hands lay on his chest and she could feel the hard contours beneath her fingertips. His talk was mesmerising her and his gaze was turning her soft, but still she listened as he continued, "Let me closer meu dragoste". All she could see and hear was him, only somewhere far away in her mind did she even remember her little trinket that lay in ruins on the floor. Livia let her palms glide gently across his chest to his sides and immediately he came closer. To his apparent delight she released an anxious gasp that warmly fanned his face the moment his chest made contact with her breasts.

She could feel him smile against her skin.

He inhaled deeply one last time. "Tell me Livia", he paused raising himself up on a forearm, "Tell me what you would do if I was kiss you?" He did not look at her, but instead his eyes followed the path that his fingertips where etching into her clothing. Small circles travelled deliciously across her abdomen, but stopped tantalizingly short of straying any higher. "Tell me?" He looked at her to find her regarding him with her dark gaze that held the slightest hint of amber.

"I'd have to at least kick you or do something equally terrible", she eventually replied.

"Do I dare ask why?"

"If I didn't, you would believe I am as shameless as my brother _thinks_ I am-"

"You are not?"

Anger seized her so suddenly that she failed to see the teasing light in his eyes and before her mind could process an adequate response, she had tumbled them both onto the floor amongst the beads. With her hands resting on his shoulders she enjoyed her dominant position too briefly as he immediately rotated their positions with ease. He further provoked her with a teasing comment, "It is a little too soon for me to allow you the dominant role in this relationship my darling". Not one that ever took to playful teasing, Livia gave a growl and lunged for his face, but her hands were soon caught in a grip above her head. She gave off a colourful string of her best remembered phrases and in turn he brought his mouth close to hers and kissed her with a growl of his own that echoed deep within his chest.

She was hungry as his lips met hers and the identical sentiments were echoed deep within himself. She moved slightly beneath him to automatically accommodate his larger frame and he came to rest gently between her thighs. He released his grip on her hands to better tangle his long fingers in her soft hair whilst her arms wound their way around his neck. In front of the log fire with only the fallen beads for company they fitted like two pieces of a puzzle.

He released her from the kiss and brought his forehead to rest upon hers, "We will wait until our bed my dear-"

"_Our bed_?" She repeated his words that were strange to her.

"Any bed then", he said calmly to soothe her ruffled feathers. He found it less than amusing that Marc had not informed her of her up coming marriage. When she did not look convinced he added teasingly, "Excuse my English then, the Romanian is far superior". She did not pursue the subject, but he felt her thoughts had book marked it for later investigation. Her next thought took him by surprise as she sat up and said, "The beads are a present from a children's hospice". He remained lying on his side as she continued, "_Costova _holds charity dinners and events raising money for my causes". When he said nothing she said, "It was my Christmas present _and_..."

He watched expectedly as she rose on those legs of hers and made her way to the closed door. She opened it, then turned back to say, "And Michael is my long suffering lawyer I will have you know".

The door closed with a subdued _click_.


	8. Seven

_7. To the Pleasantries of Nightbane_

She awoke to the sound of rain falling upon the windows. The patter of droplets falling to earth was all that could be heard in the early hours of the morning. They splashed against the glass at the gentle coaxing of the window. Livia slowly turned her head to face the direction of the disturbance. She watched the light from the moon cast shadows across the trees that stood straight and proud outside her window. The delicate shadows rolled with the wind in curious movements across the French windows.

_Pitter Patter_

Her eyes were heavy as she watched and her mind tried desperately to latch on to what had woken her from her deep sleep. The thick comforter rustled gently as she rolled onto her front in order to shake the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. It was the feeling of being called, but lacking the knowledge of whom or what had actually called to her. She vaguely remembered a similar feeling before her brief

run in with the man in the study.

Silence of thought reigned serene for a moment.

A long sigh punctured the sound of light rain as Livia glanced the time that a digital clock proudly displayed in red on her wooden bedside table.

"Three AM and woken by nothing, nothing but my imagination", she muttered as she dragged the dark comforter from her warm body and sat on the edge of the large bed with her feet immersed in the deep vanilla carpet. At the movement her thick hair trailed over her shoulders and she sent a distracted hand through the wild mass as her eyes slowly drifted about the dark room before coming to rest on the shape of the long black cape slung over a chair.

Her lovely eyes clouded at the sight.

There was a strange chill, neither unpleasant nor pleasant, that suddenly surrounded her and collected over her bare skin exposed by the fine lawn chemise, but she merely put the event down to the lack of quilt. However, it did not stop the goose bumps rising on her skin with the feeling of being watched and nor did it stop the wandering of her errant thoughts.

Another forced sigh soon followed as her eyes went back to the moving shadows across her window as she refused to further contemplate the brief and strange awareness. She had enough to contemplate and now proved to be as good a time as any.

_Vladislaus…_

She clearly recalled the voice as he had made the simple introduction. _It was dark, but comforting. Compelling even, like the man himself_. But then again, what did she know of the man himself? _Was he just another like her brother? Bored and wealthy? Hoping for sport? _She could only but guess at his strange, but pointed remarks that he occasionally let her hear. _What on earth did "our bed" mean? And that Marc was more likely to strive in entertaining him?_

Livia pulled herself up before another sigh could escape. Why bother pondering such questions went nothing would come of it. It was dismal and distracting to say the very least. She had no right to be interested in the man and he had no right to be stealing her sleep.

It had been two days since their last encounter and she had, ashamedly wanted more from a man who was nothing more than a stranger to her. She had haunted the whole house and especially the study since their chance meeting. Livia had not even felt the slightest urge to push as the bars of jail in all that time. No, she had been content to wander aimlessly hoping to catch a mere glimpse of her illusive prey.

Practically speaking it was terrible enough that he was obviously part of the old secular groups of inbred nobles. _Well, you certainly did not think that as he trailed his long fingers over your spine as you shuddered in delight_, said a small mocking voice in her head. She growled low in her throat at her own contradictory argument and paced closer to the window in the hope of losing all conscience thought; it was never to be.

Unfortunately her mind continued in its torment as she thought of how she should have been clearly focused on Michael's relay of information concerning the sale of her beloved _Costova_ restaurants, but was she? No, she had continuously lost sleep over a man who had taken advantage by daring to kiss her in family home and then not seek her company for the next two days. She was attractive and wealthy so had he not bothered to make a meal of his snacking?

_He probably thought me as shameless as my reputation_, she thought to herself with a show of uncharacteristic dismay and went to curl herself in the chair. "As shameless as my whole family believe or believed me to be", she grimaced at the correction of tense. Her eyes drifted to the picture of her late mother that sat next to the digital clock. It had been taken many moons ago when her mother had been the same age as Livia was now. Staring at her mother's golden smile and red hair Livia wondered would she have understood if Livia could reach her now? What advice would she give her? _If only they knew the truth I doubt I would prove so entertaining_, she though whimsically as she turned to rest her cheek on the dark material of the cape she had acquired on her first night. The scent of rain, leather and man nudged the edge of her senses as her thoughts took her away.

There had been plenty of men who had been more than willing to charm her; from London to New York. They had been wealthy, poor, ugly and handsome. None had succeeded though. Livia turned her head to stare at shadows again whilst her hair gently tumbled down the side of the chair as she considered them all.

None had made a lasting impression upon her. To begin with she had been too sheltered, then later she had been consumed by aggressive ambition, but then later she found that something invisible had always held her back. The men had been greedy, selfish or aggressive. Their lists of faults always grew rather than diminished with each specimen she acquired. Eventually she had given up.

Subsequently she had been labeled as _aloof_ and supposedly considered herself above them all. She couldn't complain that it had been at all negative since it had lent her the _tousled, but unattainable_ look, as one photographer had put it, which had granted her many lucrative contracts as a model. _Modeling, wasn't that a little trial in hell itself?_ She grimly mused. Before her mind could venture back into the territory of lies, deceit and hunger she considered the image of _Livia Costova_.

_Glamorous, elegant…alone. _

"The successful ice-gypsy. How ironic", Livia murmured to herself. "What is that word which describes the iron? Like when Romeo described his love as _cold-fire_?" She drew her fingertips to her temples trying to remember, but the thought was lost as she turned to contemplate how ridiculous she was questioning an empty room. "Well, whatever it is. It is not the truth", she sighed softly.

Despite her utter defiance in the face of her brother's requests over the years, his message had permeated the rumored icicles to reach her heart. She had been desperately alone in her little world of glamour. What women didn't want to be loved and eventually care for a family; her own family? What would have been the point of working so hard? _What had been the point of working so hard?_

Over the last years she had retreated into her home in Chelsea. Bored with the twinkling lights and hungering for something she just could not describe. Livia had tried one last time in a fairly valiant effort with Adam Williamson. She had desperately tried to settle herself with an Englishman and if the idea had made her father turn in his grave, well, she hoped that by encouraging marriage had made up for it. Adam had been part of a line of impoverished blue bloods after all. What more could her father have wanted? She would have married as the virgin bride in a large catholic church, given up work and went to live in a draughty manor house presumably behaving like a good heifer.

Yes, a fine blue blood to have fine blue blooded children. It all but showed in how he had bored her to death. She had sampled his kisses, but found them trying despite his zealous advances. From her perspective the "relationship" had died from a clean blow as she had left him a polite answer message.

"Trying" kisses? She tried the description in her head again, but found it lacking. With the memory of her dark obsession fresh in her mind a first kiss from Adam had been nothing compared with the flaring of desire she had felt in the study. Her eyes glazed in the dim light as she remembered the sheer hunger he had communicated to her by touch alone. It had been infectious. He had touched and she had, nearly, gone up in flames.

Livia laughed gently to herself as she said, "Again I must confess how ironic. The first man I find myself interested in and he takes me for the apparent whore my image portrays". She stood up, took one look at the French window, walked toward them and turned the key. The door opened to reveal a small patio with potted plants here and there. A cool breeze blew in immediately and made the light lawn she wore swirl around her ankles. The moon was out flitting in and out of sight as the heavy rain clouds passed over in the ink black sky. It caused the grounds around the house to take on a living glow and the patches of poor light shifted here and there in the light rain.

A smile spread across her soft features as she contemplated the sheer joy of solace on a night like this. Her body thrummed with suppressed energy radiating warmth into the cold she did not feel and the grim amusement slowly ebbed to a cool assessment as had happened through most of her life when she could not solve a problem. _So what did it matter? There would be others even if it will be because of my money?_

Without a second thought she turned rifled through her drawers for a one piece to wear beneath the fine lawn. With that task done she collected a thick towel which she placed in a canvas bag. Disliking the need for shoes and an umbrella she made off for the heated pool with a second thought for her apparent safety. It only briefly crossed her mind that she had made this journey countless of times before as a child. The rain blessed grass was heaven beneath her bare feet and she turned her face to the sky for the light rain to kiss her thoughts away. An early morning burst of exercise to exorcise her demons should do the trick – it always had before.

The dark figured watched her make her way all the while contemplating what he had just learned. He watched with a sort of fascination as she made her way through the box hedges. It was as if a very trying water sprite had been deposited on earth simply to vex him. He gave a disgruntled sigh and dissipated to mist as he followed her.

The woman's thoughts had become strangely still as she made her way through the grounds. The most he could detect with his fine hearing was the sound of the blood rushing in her veins. He had listened to her as her tension had sent out waves to him unwittingly.

He next appeared to haunt the foliage that surrounded the small pool. His usually handsome features glowered in her general direction as she went about her tasks oblivious to his presence. The dark one did not like all that he had learned. He did not like where she was heading either. It was cold for a mortal and the early morning to boot. The whole of the house had been put under a mortal spell since she had arrived. The dark one's night was usually her mortal day, but he had declared otherwise so not to startle her. Even now as he subtly tailed her through the grounds and through the gate the other night creature were gathered silently behind closed doors in the house. _Apparently I was wrong in my assumption as she is clearly not averse to the night_, he silently mused.

_I, the great revered one, taken in by idle gossip? What does the chit take me for?_ He glared at her as she sat down at the edge of the water with the tips of her toes tentatively testing the water. The tips were painted a deep red and provided a delicate, if striking, contrast to her moon-bathed skin. _How would her lips look coated in the same colour as she drew blood?_ He wallowed in his exotic musings for an instant longer as he watched. The mist of rain continued to fall and had, by now, soaked her thin lawn so it clung to her like a second skin. The wet fabric exposed her swimsuit and for a moment he cursed her foresight. It might have been so very interesting otherwise. The usual russet of her hair had darkened as tendrils clung to her throat in the rain.

However, while the rain poured down upon her, the dark one remained untouched. Despite the erotic image she presented he was less than impressed with her musings. _I still stand by my conclusion that women are stupid creatures. She sits there whiling away her time with silly thoughts and concludes nothing accurate or logical._ The rain fell harder for a few moments as if to parallel his emotions. He took a long needless breath and looked skyward before lowering his gaze back to his trying sprite. Livia remained still completely lost to her musings. He watched a rivet of water make its way down her neck to disappear down into the valley of her breasts only partially covered by gauze of her lawn. Damning the swimsuit that obscured the vision his eyes flared briefly as he fought a battle with lust. She would never know how lucky she was in being the object of his desire late in the immortal's life. He had learned some patience and would be patient…for now.

She shivered slightly as the water in the pool engulfed her on entry and with that his stance softened slightly remembering all that she promised. She was an innocent in more ways than one; a perfect bride for his eternity.

"And all together beautiful", he said whilst an umbrella appeared in his hand and he also turned back to needlessly slam the gate in order to alert her to his presence. All it took was the first click of the latch for her gaze to twist in his direction.

Livia immediately halted her strokes through the warm water and saw the cause of her torment casual walk towards her bearing an unreadable look. Through the fine gauze of rain and dim light he should have been hard to discern, but her traitorous heart recognized him in an instant.

"What a pleasure to find my water sprite here", he came to stand over her wet lawn and canvas bag filled with a towel. "Is the water warm?"

Livia immediately noted how spotless he looked despite the trying conditions of the weather and the time of day. He looked…_spotless_ and there was an unnatural air about him. _That same pulling of my senses_.

_Coaxing._

She did not miss the endearment he casually passed her way, but stowed it away to reflect upon later.

When she still regarded him through a guarded gaze he continued, "I said it is nice to see you Livia"

"And why is that?"

He noted the clear husk in the voice and the clear message that she did not regard his probing as law. She had merely answered him as if to appease a child certain of getting its own way. He regarded her for an instance and was a wise man to note that her earlier mood of insecurities had dissipated. Did she really think that a little cold would make him dissipate too? He changed tack and answered her equally, "I have missed you over the last two days". His blue eyes watched confusion briefly travel across her features before she masked it with a dispassionate look. She had expected his sharp tongue as a reprimand just as her brother had often gifted her with so often before. He watched as at a loss she drove beneath the surface to complete her laps of the quaint pool.

The surface of the pool was marred by the crashing droplets of rain as they fell to earth, but the illuminated pool still loyally cast back an image of the water sprite running from her thoughts as she pushed herself. It was clear that she did not want to consider the man standing beside her ruined lawn any longer, but he remained persistent. He knew that she would fail before he did.

"Finished?" He inquired softly as she broke the surface to breath in the cold valley air.

She eyed him warily as she made her way towards the steps of the pool feeling remarkably vulnerable. _What on earth was he doing wandering about at this time of night?_

"Ah, but it is early in the morning and not night. Rather acceptable to out and about before the day begins", he returned smartly and then proceeded to continued devilishly, "but then again I did not find anything worthwhile to keep me in my bed", he regarded her closely and sensed her slight shock. Not because she was repulsed by clear invitation, but because she was sure he had read her mind. He knew he symptoms well, she would be questioning whether she had or had not voiced the thought out loud now. He did not doubt that she would arrive at the conclusion that it was merely a coincidence. It did not matter either way because the sooner she found out the better it would be for all of them.

"If I didn't know better I would say that you were reading my thoughts", she responded in her clipped English tones.

"Bit late to be acting the prim English Rose my dear", he countered lazily and as she caught hold of the rail to pull herself out of the water he was faster and gained a firm grip on her slim forearm; she standing near him streaming water in an instant. A little dazed by his enormous strength she did nothing when he ordered her to hold the menacing black umbrella as he whipped her own towel around her shoulders. Her pupils widened as he pulled her closer into the strong ring of his arms as she held the umbrella over them both. "Talk to me Livia", he told her. "Tell me what bothers you?" His hands came to rest on small of her back and his finger tantalized the fine muscles beneath her skin.

The sound of rain falling on the umbrella created a soft echo all around her. He was so close and even in the dim light she could make out the startling blue of his eyes. The beautiful contrast of dark hair alabaster skin made her speechless with her mind tripping over itself. She felt such a dark desire for this man. Her arms ached from the punishing laps, but she was also slowly melting all at once from his slightest touch. How was it even possible? She should rage at him. Walk away from the trouble she could see clearly reflected in his eyes, but she could not move if her life depended on it.

"Can you feel it my dear?" He murmured in that rich voice close enough to her face that she could feel the cool breath fan her warming skin. "A little warmth enticing us that is gradually going to turn us both into pillars of flames?" His hand gently curled around the nape of her neck and tilted her face towards his own so he could stare into her eyes. They carried a glaze of awe and he knew she felt the pull as strongly as he. "What do you want Livia?" He coaxed her gently, "Do you want my kisses? My hands over your beautiful flesh?" The dark one's gaze traveled lower as his hand trailed from collar bone to breast. Her damp flesh quivered beneath his touch and he lowered his head to gently bite her jaw along to the graceful column of her neck. "Ravishing", he murmured as his kisses found the corner of her heart shaped mouth and he nearly devoured her all whole in the pouring rain. His hands tangled in her hair as she dropped the umbrella into the pool and wound her arms around his neck as the towel gradually fell away from her figure. Livia responded in his arms without a second thought as he increased in his ministrations; he body softening to mold against his tower of strength.

"Livia", he murmured as he breathed in her intoxicating scent of arousal. It was permeating and dissolving the foundations of all his good intentions. He intended to marry this woman and for once he would do something the right way. "My dear", he breathed close to her face and gently unwound her arms around his neck and kissed the tips of her fingers to soften his refusal of her inviting eyes.

For a moment she must have lost all track of sanity or why, _why_ after all her intentions of steering clear of the man did she find herself standing here begging him to take her with him in the coal blackened rain? She took a step back and went to pull her hands from his grip, but he held fast.

"Don't you dare run away with that mind of yours thinking all manner of preposterous thoughts", he threw at her with a sudden anger in his eyes. The memory of her earlier thoughts brought fresh in his mind.

"What? Because like the rest of my family you think I should have done better. Molded better? Don't even think to deny that you simply thought to try your luck with me!"

She pulled a little harder on her captive wrists, but he merely pulled her more forcefully to him. "If all I wanted was a roll in the hay, as they say these days, then I would have found an individual with much less baggage", he tipped acid on her already raw wound.

"Then what the hell do you want?" She was igniting much more than his lust as she stood there in the rain with her hair slithering down her back and the bounty of her breast heaving with sudden brittle anger. "Go on, tell me then?"

"Obviously your money you stupid wench", he spat with his rage at her audacity growing. "How dare you be so shallow to my face", he stood glowering at her with as much menace as her father would have done. "Such nonsensical thoughts that stew in that clever brain of yours like imagining yourself a whore, that money is all I would want you for-"

"Get off!" She couldn't bear to hear anymore and tugged with all her might.

"Say please little princess because I will enjoy watching you beg", he said to her and she swore she saw a gleam pass his eyes.

"What the hell do you want anyway? Leave me alone! Don't you have a home or must you constantly stalk mine-"

"I'm going to finally marry you Livia", he told her quietly and watched the color ebb from her face. "All these years you have been yearning for something. I know it and you most certainly know it". _And I have waited too long for you, _he grimly mused to himself. She held very still as he continued, "I can make you ache with so much Livia and I can give you so much more".

"Like hell", she said to him as she pushed with all her might. So used to compliance and obedience the action caught him off guard and landed him straight into the warm water of the pool. He surfaced smoothly and waited for her next bout of words. "Don't look at me like that! Like I should be bloody grateful! Is that the general standard of proposal I should expect since I'm so far _gone_?" She dragged in a breath before she continued, "When and _if _I seek forgiveness for my imagined crimes it won't be from you!"

"My dear", he tried to interrupt her in a surprisingly calm manner.

"I am not your dear! I am not your-"

Without further ado a seemingly invisible force nudged her forward into the pool and Livia soon found herself face to face with her supposed suitor. She was horrifically speechless. _If only he didn't look so good with that back shirt outlining all_…

His throaty chuckle brought her back to reality as his arms circled her lithe figure. "You should see what is under the shirt my darling", he said and nipped at the sensitive spot below her ear.

"There is something amiss here isn't there?" She surveyed him with an unreadable expression as he pulled back from her and she in turn tried her damnedest to place a mental wall around her inner most thoughts. "Tell me the truth", she asked when he said nothing.

"Very clever my mate of the night", he replied in low tones. "Now that you have learned that small trick I shall have to work extra hard at trying to decipher that puzzling mind of yours". He slowly brought her to rest closer to him so her arms trailed over his shoulders.

"I cannot think when we are this close", she protested as her legs became entangled with his.

"Perhaps I don't want you to think"

"Why"

"Why what my dear?"

"_Why_ do you want to marry me – hypothetically speaking of course because I sure as hell did not hear a proposal. Merely an order come to think of it-"

"That's enough from you", he stated and kissed her deeply. Her tongue tentatively meet his invasion and she moaned deeply in her throat. "Perhaps because I find you an enigma-"

"I don't need to be lied to"

"The story is a long one. Much to long for the time we have now", he said and glanced pointedly at the lightening of the sky. He kissed the side of her neck and added, "Consider yourself proposed to my dear".

"Don't be ridiculous, I barely know you-"

"Ah, but our souls seem entwined for how then could I have kissed you so thoroughly as no man has done before?" He left the rhetorical question unanswered as he waded with her to the shallows. He gallantly allowed her to hide her growing blush at the few, but well chosen words. When they were in the cold rain once more he turned to her and said, "Come with me to the Opera and I will tell you all". When she looked like she would break away and run as far away from him as possible he slowed her with his voice, "Come my water sprite I promise I will not bite and you want to come. Don't deny yourself".

"Perhaps-"

"Ah, my dear you make my immortal heart glad", he said and once more kissed all thoughts from her mind before she could question him further…


	9. Eight

_8. To the Good Memories_

"Greta", she said warmly as she entered the kitchen and rounded the large oak work bench to hug the elderly woman. Greta was small and frail beneath her hands, but she had inhabited the kitchens of the house for years. Livia had never thought to question how the old woman managed to retain her elegant looks.

"It smells absolutely divine", Livia said whilst unconsciously falling back into the rhythm of her childhood. She remembered clearly how her first lessons in cookery had been at this woman's elbow. The smell of warm cinnamon rolls filled the large room as the mid-morning sun gently streamed through the stencilled windows and down onto the stone floor. The young woman's eyes relaxed further onto her stool as Greta placed a plate in front of her complete with cinnamon roll and homemade butter.

"Eat my child", the older woman pressed her to do as she was bid, but at the hesitant look that filled her eyes she said, "You cannot live on just anything in my kitchen". _So much hurt. If only her father had been more patient with the child_, Greta silently mused. The old woman could feel the mixed emotion emanating from Livia the moment her brother had forced her home. Despite the hesitancy displayed this morning, Greta was pleased that most of her questions and thoughts were now firmly dwelling their _Lord_.

Looking back at Greta as she moved back to her task of shelling green peas from the pods Livia was assailed by more memories involving the older woman before her. She gave a little sigh as she remembered the good memories and forced herself to note that it had not been all bad. Remembering Greta's last words Livia replied, "Well, I'm already considered _unsuitable_ for the catwalk having three meals a day and all. Cel- whatever her name has already passed her unhelpful comments". When Greta said nothing Livia took a bite of the roll, chewed thoughtfully for a moment before taking a different road of thought, "Besides, I do believe Marc is keeping me prisoner here"

"You cannot be a prisoner in your own home", replied Greta. "And another thing young miss", the older woman looked at her charge, "Stop fishing"

"I'm not fishing", she smiled. "I'm _baiting_ you. I want to see if you still scare cook the way you used to when she failed to get out of bed on time after a night on the tipple-"

"Well the wonders of London have not improved your tongue". Greta looked up from the bowl of peas and said with a sly grin, "or you temperamental and simply wanton behaviour…"

"Meaning?" The pushed the clean plate away from her and folded her palms in her lap with a look of enquiry. There was the beginning of a tell-tale blush of her fine cheekbones.

"Nothing, nothing, just the way you start yelling at a certain man in the early hours of the morning-"

"Greta you spy! What did you over hear?"

"Oh calm and shush. You think there is anything that I have not heard…or seen before?"

"I'm sure I just detected a sly note in your voice towards the end-"

"For such a bright child you are still remarkably defensive". Greta took the bowl to one of the large farmhouse sinks and left it there as she returned with carrots to peel. "Which is why it surprised me so to see you cavorting with a man like that in and out of the pool with the heavens opening about over your pretty head-"

"Oh how could you", Livia exclaimed with her head falling dramatically onto the worn surface of the wood.

"Cheer up. We must all fall victim to our basic instincts at one point or another".

"Then why, why can I feel you smiling without even having to look at you Greta?" Came the muffled response from Livia.

_Because it will be good to have you home again and under his protection, _mused the old woman. _A little fire can only help along the inevitable._

"Greta-"

"Hmmmm"

"Tell me about him", she turned her head to view the old woman from her place on the table. When the old woman briefly paused in her task then resumed the chore once more she asked again, "Please tell me about him Greta?"

"Well-"

Before Greta could begin one of the household staff appeared at the door of the kitchen and coughed to interrupt the flow of words. He addressed Livia, "Mistress, the cars have arrived".

"Thank you. I shall be right out"

"Cars?" Greta looked at Livia with puzzlement.

"I am going shopping today", replied Livia a little cryptically.

"And you need a new car to do this in? Your brother keeps a chauffer on hand when it is needed"

"Ah, but not _my _kind of car Greta and no, don't you start looking at me like your going to give a sermon on fast cars or my wasteful nature"

"And why should I not? You are very important-"

"Because Greta, I saw that look of immense relief as we were interrupted. You didn't want to tell me about _him_", Livia said as she raised herself from the stool to the floor. At the older woman's stricken look she softened and said, "Besides I'm just travelling to the capital today. I did grow up here you know despite everything. I'm also going out tonight so I had best find something good to wear otherwise I doubt you will have much food for gossip". Greta's features relaxed and as Livia turned to the door she heard her say, "He _is_ good for my girl".

Livia chose not to dwell on the last words she heard as she left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to the main hallway. She was dressed casually today in a warm grey sweater and blue jeans, however, her feet were encased in another extravagant pair of jimmy choos. Her loose ponytail bounced on her shoulders as she quickened her pace for the last few steps out the door. Livia smiled warmly at the _Mr. Locket_ who bowed slightly as he greeted her; he recognised an enthusiast when he saw one. "Mr Locket I presumed", she said trying desperately to conceal her childish glee.

"Madam Costova", he dipped his head again before continuing, "I trust you are well-"

"Very", she turned her gaze to the two vehicles loaded on a large lorry parked on the gravel, "And I see you have brought what I asked for too"

"Of course Madam", he said patiently. Mr Locket noted how, unlike his other customers, she made no effort to make him feel at home. Her almost serene control was effortless as she drove the conversation. _Money, it can teach you anything, _he thought to himself. He watched her walk out onto gravel to inspect the vehicles.

"I take it you had no trouble with the CSL I requested?"

"GPS voice recognition as requested-"

"Good", she replied without looking at him and eyed the two identical DB-9s with their two different colours; black and red.

Mr Locket remained silent as his customer regarded the two vehicles. He knew there was nothing he could say. She had been on the phone to him that morning and, in fact, the phone call had dragged him out of bed. Apparently she wanted a replica of her Aston currently residing at a Chelsea residence in London. Apparently she simply could not wait to have the vehicle shipped out. _Or maybe she wanted two_, he thought to himself. _Well, at least she knows what she is talking about when it comes to the vehicle. It's too often painful enough to have a fop take a pristine vehicle from my showroom and grind the gears back and forth._

"Well done Mr Locket it is exactly what I requested", she turned and purposefully strode to wear she had left him on the steps. "I will take the black one"

"And the funds-"

"Money sullies the ears terribly, but since you ask the funds have been wired directly to your holdings in Bucharest", she eyed him for a moment before adding, "Including a bonus for being so prompt".

"My thanks Madam", Mr Locket said with a smile threatening to crack his face in two. He went to add more, but she cut him short, "Have the vehicle moved onto the drive and leave the keys with my house keeper Madam Greta. Understood?"

"Yes Madam"

"Good", she said with another glance at the car. "Have a good day Mr Locket", she finished and walked back into the house to fetch a few items before she made for Bucharest.

In her room she collected a long red jacket and a handbag. Whistling she made her way through the empty house towards the kitchens. She found it disturbing that even with so many _guests _constantly in residence the house remained as silent as a tomb during the daylight hours. She shrugged off the thought. It mattered little to her as she preferred the night._ At least I have more company, _her thoughts clearly back tracking to the man in black.

"Ah, brilliant", she said cheerfully and swiped the keys off the wooden table as Greta turned to face her. The old woman looked a little pale and Livia's gaze moved to take into account her brooding brother; Marc. "Why so glum old chap?"

"Livia-"

"Stay out of this Greta", Marc snapped at the old woman which immediately sent a buzz of anger through Livia. She merely waited for his first comment before deciding her mode of attack. "Going out are we?"

"Well yes actually", she replied sweetly, "But as you can see I don't have all my belongings so cheer up I thought I'd spend another week before heading back to Chelsea brother-".

"You are not driving anywhere Livia! Give me the keys to that contraption you have parked outside-"

"It's commonly known as an Aston Martin DB-9 Marc and I can assure you it is the least shameful care to be driving round so I'm sure I won't be embarrassing you that way", she interrupted him with her most calm of voices.

"Where are you going?"

"Not to the airport?"

"Livia-"

"Not to the train station or bus station either"

"Livia!"

She contemplated throwing the bowl of carrot peel in his arrogant face, but Greta looked stricken with fright as it was. There was no choice, but to persevere in a calm manner of irritation. "Yes Marc?"

"Where are you going?"

Livia was about to give him another answer involving a ferry, but she caught the gleam of tears in poor of Greta's eyes. It would do not good having another of their pointless fights upsetting the old woman so she replied in truth, "I'm driving to Bucharest for some shopping and hopefully lunch before returning by five this evening, although that could turn later as you are delaying me with your yelling"

Marc had almost calmed with the first part of her explanation, but she just had to bait him with the ending. "Sister, listen to me very carefully. You are not. I repeat not going to go anywhere in that death trap. Nor are you gallivanting off to the city without a guide"

"And you will listen to me Marc dearest", Livia said to him with the oak table between them, "I will be driving down to Bucharest today. I am aware it is the big bad city, but frankly after London I doubt it could be much worse. I'm going shopping like a good woman. Now don't you worry your head over it. Go find that Celeste or whatever her name was and maybe she could dress up in mother's clothes too. Then she could really pretend to be the Lady of the House eh? I mean why stop at just taking over our mother's apartments love?"

Marc fumed with intensity before declaring, "I don't know how he would want to put up with you!"

"Who?" Livia declared with wide, apparently innocent, eyes? "I don't know what you mean Marc". She turned to Greta and kissed the woman on the cheek before saying, "See you later Greta. I'll be sure to bring you back something".

With that she walked out of the house and straight to the car.


	10. Nine

_9. To All Things Bright & Beautiful_

It was fast approaching 10 in the morning by the time Livia was easing off the brake and headed due-south for the hustle and bustle of Bucharest on one of the main highways that criss-crossed the mountainous region. She had, thankfully, headed out with little to no trouble at all. Marc had not deemed it necessary to make another appearance after their _loving _disagreement in the kitchen in front of dear old Greta.

Her hands tightened around the smooth leather of wheel as her thoughts drifted back to her _moronic brother_ and his earlier treatment of Greta. She had intensely disliked his commanding tone. It was moments like that that made her wish she had never been brought back; it was unbearable to torture themselves over stupid things that they would never agree on. Wasn't it? _Or should I have more patience with Marc? _She allowed the thought to hover in her mind and, though it was difficult to admit, she concluded that both brother and sister could try a little harder.

Livia didn't even have to look out the window to see the majestic scenery that rose all around her. Greens and blues that scattered here and there. The sun shone high up in the blue sky and the black tar shimmered in the distance between lone vehicles. The good weather surprised her as when she had left there had been a distinct black cloud hovering over the grounds and wind that had picked up last minute. The overwhelming feeling of dread that she had experienced as she approached the ground boundaries had grown worse by the minute. As if some thing or someone had placed an invisible mental deterrent at the ground's boundary. Livia was thankful to place her childish imaginings to one side as the sun continued to pour down over the land.

She shifted in a miniscule gesture as an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. _She_ had missed _all_ of it and the new sights she had been exposed to were all too tempting to pass up...

The silence of the car was suddenly interrupted by the authoritative tones of the GPS as it indicated the next junction Livia would need to make a turning at. On a sigh Livia lessened her grip and concentrated on her favourite past time.

Driving.

She allowed a small smile to paint her lips as she passed over the next rise and the sprawling cosmopolitan of Bucharest came into view.

It wasn't long before she was striding purposefully across the marble floored lobby of The Athenee Palace Hotel towards Michael Rathbone. "Michael", she said and shook his hand in a very business like gesture. "How is Catherine?"

"Firstly, it's actually nice to see you in person Liz and the wife is doing fine", Michael said whilst indicating the direction of the tea room. "She's still half asleep from the flight over, but I believe she already plans to drag me out shopping for the twins-"

"She's very tired?"

He noticed she stopped and had a frown marring her flawless features, "She's fine and stop scowling"

"I never scowl-"

"Tell that to a mirror, but before we wander down this road lets talk about-"

"Business?"

"You know most lawyers tell their clients what to do not the other way around-"

"Well, most clients didn't house-share with their future lawyers when they couldn't tell the difference between appropriation and derogation before a bar exam", Livia finished with a cheeky grin.

"Catherine was always the nice one", Michael finished with confidence.

Livia rolled her eyes and continued walking.

"Tell me, how did you manage to get past the door man with blue jeans on?"

"Charm obviously-"

Her old friend snorted his derision as he sat opposite her at one of the wicker tables in the tea room. "Whilst I'm sure you could find some way to get past him I doubt you charmed him Liz"

"Fine, I don't measure up in _that _way, but you didn't see the car I drove in", she smiled.

"Let me guess, _another _Aston?"

She raised her dark eyes from the cake menu and said, "You make it sound like a bad thing"

"Catherine told me you were out to goad your brother to his grave-"

"Cath merely has a suspicious mind that I doubt you help!" She lowered her eyes back down to the menu to hide her look of guilt. It was enough that she had decided patience on the drive down, but there was no need for anyone to point it out.

"Liz? Did you hear me?"

Livia raised her eyes from the menu to look at the man opposite her. "Sorry Michael, I was a little distracted"

He looked a bit worried as he said, "Are you, alright, here? I mean I always think Cath is just joking around, but you're not in any danger or unhappy here are you?" He folded and re-folded the napkin before him, "We don't know everything that happened, but we do know that we were all poor and reasonably happy as our own little family in Brixton during our student days"

Livia smiled as she recalled the small terraced house she had shared with the lawyer and the artist.

"He hasn't kidnapped you for marriage or anything has he?"

"Who?"

"Marc"

Livia could not help but colour guiltily at the word marriage. "No"

"Then why are you turning that unattractive shade of beetroot", asked Michael. At her silence he added, "I was joking, but now I'm worried"

She brought her hands up above the table to gesticulate her clogged words, "Well, I, no, he hasn't though I think he thinks he has"

"And you wondered why you never got that understudy role as _Mrs Lovett_", he regarded her puzzled look for a moment. "You're a terrible actress Liz"

"Thanks", came the sarcastic reply.

"That's it?"

"What more can I add?"

"How about the full story?"

"It's a trifle"

"Liz-"

"I will not have Cath upset by something that is at the most a case of getting lost in translation. It's a different world here or had you two not noticed?"

"Dragging your sister back to the back end of no where for the sake of marrying her off like a brood mare is more trouble than me not quite getting the pronunciation right when it comes to the menu-"

"When you put it like that I don't know why you ever bothered knowing me in the first place", she said a little protective of her valley in the middle of _no where_.

"I didn't mean it like that Liz"

"I know Michael, it's just, well, maybe I like being home for the moment", she paused and raised her hand to stop the tirade of words that she knew would come. "I know, I know, I've said some terrible things about this place since my parents death, but I'm finding that I should try letting go of some of my adolescent hate. I didn't do too badly after all." At his silence she added, "I didn't mean to shock you to silence, you don't have to look soo worried. I still despise Marc after all so I doubt I've been brainwashed that successfully". She smiled weakly when she met silence and decided to order for them both in the mean time whilst Michael thought it all through.

The two handsome looking desserts arrived at their table complete with antique bone china. Michael took a sip of the imported Earl Grey before saying, "There is a man missing in all of this".

She could feel him watching her with his beady eye as she tried desperately not to show her shock. _How the hell can he know?_ She continued to dissect the chocolate cake and as she raised a piece to her lips Michael spoke again, "A very _interesting_ man if this is your reaction". It was the comment to break her composure as she dropped the cake off her fork and, to her immortal embarrassment, it rolled onto the fine white linen.

"Perfect" was all she said on a little sigh.

"Is he now?"

She glared at Michael as she did her best to look serene as she fished the cake piece back onto her plate and then abandoned the whole mess. "Shouldn't we be talking about how the sale went?"

"There is time for that and I would have told you immediately if anything had been a miss". Far from looking worried anymore, Michael was now sitting back in his chair looking amused. "So tell me. Is he older? Does he play sports? Is he a gentle-"

"I am not having this conversation with you!" Livia realised too late that her voice had been raised and it caused a silence in the tea room with all eyes turned in their direction. Livia kept her features fixed under the scrutiny, but Michael seemed to pay no attention to any of it. If anything he was looking smug.

"Cath will be pleased-"

"Would everyone stop taking it as if I'm getting married, it's embarrassing", she implored with her old friend. "You should feel ashamed making such assumptions. I'm basically your little sister Michael, if anything, you should be livid there is some man after me, not rejoicing"

"That is exactly why I'm _rejoicing_ my little sister"

"What?"

"You've never been this touchy about a man and you certainly never acted like this over that fop Williamson, which, tells me for certain that this man is _interesting_"

Livia drooped with her face in her hands, "I can't be Michael…"

"Why ever not?"

"I can't think when he is near me and…"

"And?" He prompted her.

"And", she said as she raised herself to look at him, "And I'm old, and he's part of the _old _circles, and I love working, and I don't walk the catwalk anymore so you know…"

Michael regarded her blankly.

"He's only seen me in the _dark_ you see", she tried to elaborate for him.

"The female mind continues to boogle me. I'm sorry Liz, but I have not got the faintest idea what you are on about-"

"Look at me Michael"

"Y-e-s"

"Well, despite the bravado I know full well I'm not as thin as I once was-"

"Oh, I understand", he said and continued, "You're having a fat moment"

"What?" The feeling of joy that he had actually understood was dissipating like mist before the sun.

"I was reading GQ magazine a while ago and there was an article about the female psyche. You go through stages of lacking confidence and somehow always end up wit the problem your fat-"

"You are a geek"

He let out a peel of laughter which brought the various glance back their way before saying, "And you are clearly a woman with all the strange workings of one"

"I sum how feel insulted-"

"For goodness sake Liz", he said between mouthfuls of bannoffee pie, "A couple of years ago you were a size zero and we all hated it. You didn't eat a damn thing and during the worst of it you ended up unconscious at the back of some _Vogue_ show. We were happy when we managed to convince you to take up that photographer's offer of modelling-"

"I can't say I was too happy when he wanted my clothes off"

"Hey, there is a darkness in all professions, but you were wise enough to steer clear of that particular area", he paused between mouthfuls, "It disgusts me to say this, but you look better now than you did then. Got past the doorman didn't you?". He was about to take a little tea before he decided to add, "_Old?_ When you get to my age then you can call yourself old. Your not even close enough to be considered for the big 3-0 crisis"

She remained silent.

"That's not the problem though is it?"

"It's all too fast-"

"I loved Cath the moment I saw her-"

"It took you four years to ask her out", she cut in.

"What? Like you said I'm a geek right?"

"He could be exactly like my father…"

"You've been here what? A week? I bet you've been badly behaved most of the time-"

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you a long time and I doubt you took to arriving here so unexpectedly with, shall we say, _good manners_. It would have just been wrong coming from you"

"I suppose-"

"And how has he acted?" At her silence he simply gave an all knowing "Mmm".

"I think there must be something in the water around here", she said looking into her empty tea cup, "The longer I stay the more forgiving and willing I am to stay"

"You miss them?"

"I have missed my mother everyday of my life without her"

"Your father?"

"I spent a long time hating him with everything I had because I couldn't seem to please him, now, now I hope he can find something to proud of me wherever he is", she finished softly.

The vibration of his cell phone pulled them both out of the deep conversation. He noticed the caller ID and immediately picked up, "Cath, I found her dear and yes she's all yours to drag along the _Calea Victoriei_ all afternoon…"

Livia's focus drifted from her friend's conversation to contemplate the afternoon. It would be nice to indulge with her friend Cath, and whilst the conversation may not be as soul deciphering as it was with Michael, it would be an indulgence all the same.


	11. Ten

_10. To All Creatures Great & Small_

She was certainly tired as she made her way through the outer circle of traffic and headed out north to the wider roads that would take her back home to the valley. Though Cath may have been six months pregnant with twins the woman showed just as much vitality as when they had been sixteen and trawling through Camden Market. Despite her regular jogs and the obscene amount of swimming Livia had been doing lately, she had been no match for the whirlwind called "Cath". Livia had been in more shops than she cared to count and the literal bags of evidence sprawled out over the back seats of the coupē. It had been a pleasure though…

At four 'o clock the sky had gradually darkened and she was approaching the last leg of the journey as the first droplets of rain hit the windscreen. It was just her luck that it began to pour down heavier as she made her way around the bends and curves that lead towards the valley. The sky had darkened to such an extent that the use of headlights had been called for, but the powerful beams did little to cut through the heavy rain. The road continued to snake and turn for what seemed like an age and she would have second guessed her location if she had not had her GPS system online. A little more than puzzled and more than aware of the time Livia pushed on just below the speed limit of the small road. She had no wish to be late tonight for not only did she aim to, at least try to, appease Marc; she had been promised an outing to the opera.

"Just my luck", she muttered and took her gaze off the road to glance at the GPS map. It was as she looked back at the road that an animal loomed in the lights. Its eyes glowed back and on an automatic impulse she swerved and locked the wheels of the car in the process. The heavy vehicle screeched across the wet surface in protest before coming to a sharp halt on the side of the deserted road. The sudden stop send whiplash ricocheting through the compact vehicle which cause Livia to strike her forehead against the top of the steering wheel. She let out a hiss of protest at the action.

Silence reigned for a moment with only the rain falling on the roof of the stationary vehicle.

"Dammit", she cursed as she switched on the cab light and took a look in her mirror first. Hoping only for a bruise had obviously been too much for the fates. Instead a thin gash, where the impact had split her skin, ran from the corner of her right forehead down to her temple. She had been blessed with a bruise too as the area was tender and she was positive that by tomorrow it would display all the colours of the rainbow. "Well done Livia", she said with a touch of self-depreciation as she switched off the cab light. Her quick mind now turned to her surroundings. Luckily she was still _on the road_ and had merely skidded onto the sidings. _At least there are some benefits to be had…_She felt exhaustion on the fringes and shook it off faster than she thought possible. The last thing that anyone needed was her brother finding her in this condition. No one would ever hear the end of it.

She immediately was assailed by distress as she thought of the small mammal in the middle of the road. After all this, the last thing Livia wanted to know was that she had killed it.

_Livia_

The sound reverberated through her mind so clearly that she turned quickly (causes a wrenching of her neck) to check that she was alone in the vehicle. She saw nothing but the murky depths beyond the windows of the vehicle. Trying to regulate her breathing she took a swipe at he blood that dripped down into her eye. "Shock. Just shock or at least a concussion. I'm hallucinating", she repeated.

_I'm glad that you would think of hallucinating of only me Livia, but be practical and tell me where you are so I can come for you…_

There it was again. His voice in her mind. It was as if he was right beside her, but only this time she could feel his emotions as if they shimmered down the invisible line of communication. It was strangely intimate.

_Let go of the wheel my dear and take a look around you so I might know where you are…_

She could feel him and knew that he saw what she saw at that moment. She could feel his worry and his mounting frustration that was slowly, but surely giving way to black anger. It was at that moment that she realised she was broadcasting emotions to him.

Distress. Confusion. Exhaustion.

"No, I am fine", she said out loud and concentrated on mentally burying her emotions. An exercise she had found successful when they had shared another strange experience that morning by the pool. She released her death grip on the wheel, unlocked her door and took hesitant step forward out into the rain.

_You don't know what is out there_

"I saw something and I'm not leaving it to die", she replied quietly as she felt the cold rain snake down her back. She felt his disapproval strongly, but was grateful that he chose not to force his will upon her. Something she was not entirely sure that he was unable to do.

_I could_

"I guessed as much", she muttered and increased her unsteady steps towards where she had last seen the animal. "Tell me where it is please-"

_What makes you think that I would know where it is?_

Livia stood where she had last seen the animal in the centre of the wet road and replied, "Because you gave yourself away in coming to my aid tonight. This…" She concentrated on the sensation of his presence in her mind in the hope he would feel it too. "That was what I could feel when I was in the pool, when I woke last night, when I was in Bucharest, but I could only feel traces, like you where glancing in on me, but I was never able to tie down the sensation. Now you have come to me direct. Now I know so tell me where it is"

_You know nothing, but I am pleased you show such an aptitude_

"I _know _that you can tell me where the little chap is, so tell me Vladislaus", she said. There was a silence as if he was deliberating her new found talent rather than focusing on her request. It annoyed her, but her next action was to plead, "Please take pity on a woman out alone, the sooner I can find him, the sooner I can come home to you". She surfaced her distress and let it freely broadcast to him. It was not long before she received a response.

_You will find a small lynx__, juvenile, to the far left of where you are standing. He has been in a fight with something much larger than him – most likely a wolf, but I will not know until I have seen him. He is overtired and was merely frightened by you tonight. Beware they can deliver a nasty bite…_

Before he finished she was off at his instruction, showing absolute trust in his word, and she tread carefully through the brush of brambles before she spotted her quarry. In the rain huddled on his side was exactly what the dark stranger had promised Livia. His coat was matted with rain and mud. Although the light was poor she could tell that his paw was the cause of his apparent ailment. To Livia, she looked at him and all her problems melted in comparison. She hunkered down to his level well aware that she was well within pouncing distance. The only reaction was his ears pressing more firmly to his skull and low hiss that escaped over his canines. Livia still felt the connection between her and Vladislaus, but instead of feeling intruded upon she welcomed the strange comfort it gave it as she began to gently hum to the injured creature. The hissing ceased and his ears perked up in her direction to listen better. She continued and moved closer whilst slowly removing her jacket. Within minutes Livia had made it to the creature's side and gently lifted him with the aid of her jacket back to the parked vehicle.

_Now where did you learn that?_

She heard the curious question, but did not answer immediately as she gently lay the sleeping animal on the reclined passenger's seat. "I found I liked animals when I worked with a wildlife society one summer", she replied quietly as she shifted the car into gear. "Now if you don't mind I will speak with you later as I need to concentrate a little harder than usual", she said and then used her _little trick_, as he had once put it, to severe the connection. Livia grimaced slightly as she felt his cold disproval as if she had slammed a door in his face before the invisible line vanished.

She would have to learn more about _psychic etiquette_.

The grounds appeared before her within the next forty minutes and the rain had become blessedly lighter in that space of time. Unfortunately darkness had now completely descended limiting her visibility. Livia manoeuvred the vehicle at a snail's pace onto the path that led to the ground's stables; it would do not good to spook anything else. It also might draw less attention to her later than planned arrival. Satisfied she was close enough to make a safe dash for her bedroom patio doors the engine was cut and she manoeuvred the little beast into her arms; humming a little as he stirred. Preoccupied with her task she ignored the packages in the car and nearly collided with the dark figure stalking the entrance to her room.

"Vladislaus", she stated with a surprised look on her face. With a hasty step back she added, "I can feel your anger so I suppose silence will do. So, so could you at least look at his paw before you rip out my throat?"

_In_

The command sizzled along the dead line and she gasped as it hit home; right where she had hit her head on the steering wheel, but she did not argue. Carrying her charge securely she entered her dry room and placed him on the end of her bed. She immediately turned for the bedside lamp, but he snapped at her, "Leave it. I do not need it to see". Rather than recoil from his tone she sat near the sleep lynx and watched in growing fascination. She watched him mentally assess the animal as it lay perfectly still under his blue gaze. He stripped a leather glove off his right hand and had it hover above the injured paw. Both man and beast held the fresco in silence for so long she felt herself becoming sleepy, but she fought the impulse and merely shifted closer to watch. All at once he removed his hand from the creature and it raised its head to look him in the eye. _I must be tired, but I could swear they're talking to one another_, she mused in her mind as she watched.

She became more alert when the creature lifted himself onto his front paws without hesitation and then his hind legs as he bounced off the bed towards the door. Before the creature took the final steps it turned in an unhurried gait towards Livia and it rubbed its head beneath her out stretched hand. With a last look at the man near her it wandered out the door.

"Just like that?" She turned to look at the muddied duvet and prints that trailed her cream carpet. "Messy thing", she said cheerfully and proceeded to remove the offending cover from her bed well aware of the brooding gaze attempting to ensnare her. Tired of the building tension as her headache began in earnest she said, "I am sorry I cut you off like that". She sighed with the bundle of laundry in her arms, "But I didn't want to hit a tree the second time". He continued to stand there and she gave up dumping the soiled cover to one side and flicking on her beside lamp. At once the room was flooded with gentle golden light and threw his expression into better view. "I have apologised and the only other thing I have left to say is that I am exceedingly grateful for whatever you did that helped my little accomplice. I'm grateful and I'm sure he's grateful too", she gave another sigh and felt the congealing blood at her forehead. It was as she was walking past him to the bathroom that his hands roughly reached out to pull her closer. The light from the lamp flickered once and puttered out, the patio doors threw themselves open wider as a gust of wind tormented the long drapes. His blue eyes bored into her and she could feel his seething just below the surface. Was it her shutting him out? Her drive to the city? Had it angered him in the same way it had angered Marc? His measured tones soon broke into her mental rambling. "Your friend, Michael, he was right about women and so was the _literature_ he read", he told her and with each word he betrayed his anger with the guttural pronunciations. "You are all stupid creatures. The things you think".

"Now you hang on one minute mate", she said in turn. "You are the one with the odd communications and healing a lynx! But I am the one with stupid thoughts?" She flared at him with her body unconsciously pressed against his solid frame.

"I thought you were hallucinating", he dripped sarcasm.

"Don't you use that tone with me or you can go with your ego tonight!"

"So you do remember that I exist and was patiently waiting for you?"

"Why do you think I was rushing home in bad weather-, oh forget it", she stopped in mid sentence angry that she was giving so much away. "Not that it matters keeping it to myself, you're probably in my head anyway!"

"Pardon?" He genuinely looked at her in puzzlement.

"Nothing", she said in defeat.

"I was not trying to get into your thoughts Livia", he said and brushed he hair gently away from her own injury. "I was thinking that my waiting has been worth while and I am grateful that you have taught me patience", he said and kissed her forehead. A cooling sensation emanated from that one spot and eased her painful headache.

If it was possible she relaxed further into his arms and asked, "What makes that all possible for you?"

"You are not frightened?"

"Should I be?"

"I should say _yes_, but I do not want you to fear me now that we have begun"

"You promised to tell me tonight Vladislaus-"

"So I did, but I really would not be part of the _secular noble groups_ if I did not take advantage, yes?"

"It is rude to eavesdrop on every one of my thoughts!"

"It is rude to think that-"

She stopped him from going any further by boldly kissing him with one hand sliding up his broad chest to rest above his heart and the other curl at the nape of his neck. For once her damp clothes did not let her feel the cold as she burned beneath his wandering hands. She could not think coherent thoughts as she stood there with his hand cupping a full breast and teasing the tight peak through the damp cotton of her top. He smelled of the forest just before the rains and she was happily drowning in it as she was caught up on a wave of lust. It was good to indulge.

"I think I have told you before that you are going to be the death of all my good intentions", he murmured throatily between her sweet kisses. She breathed a contented sigh and decided to trail her kisses down his throat since he was so persistent in speaking. "Livia my dear you've been out in the rain-"

"I have you to warm me Vladislaus", she purred as she nipped playfully at his jaw.

_My __love, it is not good to have…_

"What, tell me what?" Her words breathed across his cool skin as her hands found an opening in his shirt. He was momentarily speechless as her hands wandered across the plains of his back. However when the calling he felt began to seep along the connection they shared enough was enough.

_Blood cara. It is not good to have to have such a blatant temptation_

Again she did not question how she came to hear him, but she did and she felt the simmering of emotions that accompanied the disguised request. Livia sensed his worry that he would harm her and it was all centred around the cut on her forehead. "Why?"

"It is another attribute of mine", he replied cryptically.

She felt the tension radiating from him and she couldn't be sure whether it was because of the blood or because he was unsure of her reaction to the news he was keeping from her. "Tell me and if I don't like the news I can blame it on the concussion"

_I have a particular desire for your blood my dear_

"To kill me?" She did not move from his hold, but looked at him with enquiry.

"Why ask such a thing when you know it is not true?"

Ignoring the admonishing tone in his voice she continued, "Then why?"

"To taste you", he murmured and proceeded to kiss her slowly giving her the freedom to back away if she chose. She did nothing of the sort, but let him lead her on an erotic dance with his lips.

"Go on and tell me what I am thinking is true. I can feel you watching my thoughts even as you guard your own". She looked at him in a curious fashion.

_I am a Vampyre Livia_

"Well, the blood thing gave that away Vladislaus in all honesty, but it is nice for you to confirm my suspicions – I was more asking why you need or want blood? Do you need it or do you want it?"

A strange feeling assailed him. He had fully anticipated a fight or at the very least he had anticipated the need for a compulsion binding, but she did nothing except ask exasperating questions. He pulled her head to the crook of his shoulder and his fingers delved deeper into her rich hair, she did not protest as she heard him say, "You were truly meant for me Livia"

She pushed against his hold which eventually gave, looked into his blue eyes which seemed to glow in the dim light before she said, "Are you going to tell me?"

"Later my dear, but for now we'll be late if you do not hurry and change for the evening"

"Give me twenty minutes", she said as she pushed away from him and moved towards the bathroom. She got as far as the oak dresser before the room started to spin and immediately he was at her side as if he pre-empted her need. "It's terribly unnatural that you are able to move that fast", she said as he laid a cool hand to her forehead.

_I forget that you do not heal as quickly…_

"…As a man I suppose?" She felt the same cooling sensation spreading across her skin, but still felt the need to express, "You could try and be a little less chauvinistic"

He did not correct her, but merely uttered a non-committal response.

Livia brought his hands down from her forehead and blinked as the earlier spinning seemed nothing more than a memory. "You will have to teach me these tricks of yours", was all she said before she gently nudged him in the direction of the door. She did not wait for him to leave as she began to undress heading once more for the bathroom. First she lifted the top she wore over her head and tossed it in the general direction of the spoiled bed linen to reveal a simple lace bra. In the dim light her skin took on the palest hue and with her hair hanging in a dark mass she looked like a troublesome sprite once more. He stood transfixed as he watched her shed her clothing before his eyes. He could still feel her soft hair under his fingertips and standing a few feet from her he was able to inhale her scent. A strangely hedonistic mixture of blood and lust. His shoulder tensed for an instant as he felt the calling once more. He resisted the animalistic urge as he knew that she would be his soon enough. His eyes travelled her form as she was distracted at her dressing table searching for a brush. From the top of her head down to her fully breasts to slight curve of her hip where her delicious skin faded from his sight and into her blue jeans. Without thinking he broadcast his will for them to be _gone_. Where before he had found her abilities intriguing he would soon find them trying as she was an exceptional learner. In an instant she turned to face him with something like womanly wrath in her eyes. It was entirely obvious to him that she had felt his compulsion and it had had not effect whatsoever.

_I'm sure the fates find it funny to have sent a woman immune to me_

"I don't really think that I need to elaborate further", she said and turned back to brushing strokes into her hair. He caught the distinct muttering of "compulsion…nonsense". He stood for a while unwilling to leave her presence, but it was not long before she turned, "Well go and stop gawking at me", she threw over her shoulder as she closed the bathroom door behind her.


End file.
